Run. Race. Repeat.

Therapy Post

2012-01-27T11:18:00.000-06:00

Skip this post if you're looking for lighthearted entertainment.

(1981)

Stacy had put her apartment in my name so that her parents couldn't find her. When she died, her parents blamed me; they had a private funeral so I couldn't attend and, while they had a family plot, had her cremated and the ashes scattered so I couldn't visit. I didn't blame them for being angry; it was just the stage of grief they were in.

Her sister told me that they wanted to collect her things from the apartment, so I gave her a key and said they could come and take whatever they wanted. When I went back there a week later, they had taken everything. They took the curtains and carpet. They took the light bulbs.

I walked through the empty apartment, and when I went into the bedroom, saw that they had left something on the floor. They had taken the photos of the two of us together and ripped them in half, taking her image and leaving mine. One photo had an elaborate rip to remove her arm from my waist.

There was nothing left to do but give the place a final cleaning. I bought what I needed from the local hardware store, came back and started scrubbing. The bathroom sink wouldn't drain. Though it was difficult, I could unscrew the trap by hand. I fished out the clog, which turned out to be a wad of red hair.

It was all that was left of her in the world. I cried for hours.

Anatomy of a bad run

2012-01-25T11:07:00.000-06:00

After three good weeks of training, the wheels started to fall off. I'd been waiting for "the other shoe to drop" and knew it was just a matter of time.

Yesterday, I had quarter-mile repeats on my schedule. I didn't feel like doing them. In fact, getting out the door to run anything at all was a problem. The signs were there: stiffness, soreness, apathy.

The previous week had been a major improvement, but mostly from two hard runs done indoors. Tuesday's 10 miles were fine, Thursday's was difficult toward the end. I had planned a similar run outdoors on Saturday, but the weather was bad, so I moved it to Sunday (which wasn't nearly as nice of weather as predicted) and ended up cutting that one short. Two days after that, the sum of the runs was too much to run hard again.

I dropped the number of repeats I planned on doing, then moved the workout to a hill, so I could run slower and get the same benefit.

The hill was slick. A layer of ice, some patches of soft snow. I'd have to be careful on the downhills.

During the warm-up, it didn't feel right. This wasn't going to be a good day, but I didn't want to bail out of it completely by just running slow repeats for 90 minutes.

Last August, I was doing 10 repeats of the hill in 1:54-2:04 each, with 2.5 minutes downhill, heart rate peaking at 183.

First repeat yesterday, I started falling apart half-way up and ran 2:05. Not bad, but my chest felt tight and I worried I'd have my first asthma attack of the year. 2.5 minutes down. Second repeat in 2:13. Next 2:14. Then 2:11, 2:15, 2:16. Heart rate never got above 165, but I couldn't push any harder.

I was done. Started the cool-down and planned to finish with 8.5-9 miles in 90 minutes (still up and down the hill). Recovery miles were 10:30, 11:20, 11:41. Dead on my feet, I quit a mile early.

I went home and spent the day trying to convince myself that it wasn't a bad workout. Given the weather. Given the slippery terrain. Given the hard week before it.

Eventually, I came to accept that it was a bad workout. It happens. I just need to recover a bit and not let it turn into a bad week.

Progress and Perspective

2012-01-23T10:59:00.001-06:00

I've had three good weeks of training these first three weeks of the year and I've been feeling pretty good about the rapid progress I'm making. Here's the 5K race comparables:

21:54 January 1
21:08 January 8
20:55 January 15
19:31 January 22

That's some impressive improvement!

Then I put it into context:

18:06 me in 2006
17:04 me in 2000
16:54 MN over-50 indoor record
16:17 MN over-50 road record (for MN native)
15:51 MN over-50 road record (by an out-stater)
15:41.6 US over-50 track record
15:36 US over-50 road record
15:28 me in 1985
14:53.2 world over-50 record

Still, if I keep taking off a minute per week, I'll have the world record in March!

The Dreaded Yearly Fashion Post

2012-01-19T12:15:00.001-06:00

Every year, I like to step out of character and do a fashion post, usually after the Golden Globes awards. Yeah. Me and fashion. This guy:

Henry's delightful fashion-forward cow hat is just behind him.

This year's colors are tangerine and coral, which are very tricky. It appears no one even tried them at the Golden Globes this year. It was yet another gala of muted neutral tints, with beads and metallics trying to liven up the blandness. Sofia Vergara wore the same dress she always wears, this time in blue (or green, depending on the light). Tilda Swinton was not the worst dressed; she even looked appropriate. For lack of anyone else to talk about, "best-dressed" generally went to Angelina Jolie. There's actually something to say about the men - midnight blue tuxes are in (though Christopher Plummer's looked like it had been in his closet for decades) and everyone's sprouting beards all of a sudden!

Here's my opinion the best:
Jessica Alba in a wine blush. This has just enough color that she isn't washed-out.

Nicole Kidman's dress was an art-deco architectural design. She was washed out by the lack of color, but I love the dress. The bracelet and handbag weren't enough; a bolder necklace of emeralds or sapphires would have made this dress.

Blah, blah, blah. McPhee, Hyland, Klum in nude. Hyland wore it best.

Lea Michele was just on the edge of going too far. This dress works, but it's more Oscar than Golden Globe.
She'll never be nominated for an Oscar, though, so why not wear it here?

Shailene Woodley (don't worry if you don't know who she is) looked better than any of the photos. This, believe it or not, is not a strapless dress! It has an extremely sheer neck. Simple, elegant, if a bit bland.

I like the way this narrows to the knee and then flutes just a bit.

No, yes, no. Charlize Theron's neckline is too low, the bunched-up towel on her hip is a failed attempt to do something with a boring dress and the train doesn't match the rest of it. Kate Beckinsale, also in cream, has chosen French vanilla over vanilla. Jessica Chastain tried a high neck, but ended up looking almost matronly.

My choice for best-dressed of the night was Rainey Qualley (Andie MacDowell's daughter), who spent the night ushering people onstage. I want to hate it, but the more I look at it, the more I think she got it right (except the clutch).

The Worst and Best of Society

2012-01-18T11:10:00.000-06:00

First the bad:

In the local news was a story of a high-speed car crash that killed three teenagers and injured two others. The girl who died was 13. She was drunk. She was pregnant. The uncle of one of those killed was filmed saying the police need to do a better job of patrolling that stretch of road.

Now the good:

I was at the public library and saw a teenage girl with microcephaly and her mother picking out books in the Young Adult section. Then the mother was choosing DVDs to borrow and asked the girl which of the ones she should pick; the girl chose one and her mother teased her about having a crush on the lead actor of the movie. If she had been born when I was, she might have spent her entire life in an institution. If she had been born in my parents' generation, she might've been sold to a circus. Now she's just a teenage girl.

Olympic Marathon Trials (and other races I'm not doing)

2012-01-14T11:02:00.001-06:00

Today's the US Olympic Marathon Trials (televised locally at 2 PM on KSTP, I think, which means I have to sandwich my own run between the current 9 degrees and the 30 at 2 o'clock) and a number of Minnesotans are running, a few with real chances of making the team.

My predictions for the team: Ryan Hall, Nick Arcinaga, Jason Lehmkuhle with Meb Keflezighi as alternate. For the women: Kara Goucher, Shalane Flanagan, Desiree Davila with Deena Kastor as alternate.

I've been asked - a lot - about what races I'm planning for this year, this spring and even this month. I know... the blog's title is getting to become a misnomer, as I'm not racing much. I need to get in shape first and no one but me seems to realize just how far I have to go to get there. Measuring my progress by what I think I could do in a 5K race, I was at 21:54 two weeks ago, 21:10 last week, about 20:39 this week (I need today's and tomorrow's runs to get the number); that's improvement, but I wouldn't consider racing until I was in the 18 minute range. That won't be until April at the earliest. I picked out what race I thought might be my first one of the year and just found out that, while a certified course, it's not considered record-quality - unless the race has a new course that hasn't been listed yet by the usatf (which means I have to contact the race director...). And you thought running was just putting one foot in front of the other!

That race also happens to conflict with an ultra at which I said I'd volunteer.

So, probably no racing for me until late April and then probably nothing you've heard of or care about.

Added: One minute after I posted, the results came out in the trials! I'll post them in the comments, so you can watch without the spoiler.

Cool Hand's Drug-Assisted 10 Mile

2012-01-13T10:42:00.000-06:00

I had a good run, so I'm posting it everywhere today.

Last night, I ran indoors for only the second time this winter, running 10 miles in the Metrodome with Mark LeDuc. Sort of like old times, shooting the breeze, racking up lap after lap. Without pushing, I ended up with 10 miles in 83 minutes (Mark claims I ran a lap too many, making it 80 minutes), my fastest 10 miles since last May.

I hadn't slept much the past few days, sufffering from sinus and nasal congestion, so I stopped saying it was just a cold and popped a Sudafed. Nervous, shaking, dizzy... every possible side effect (who needs to make it into meth?) and it kept me awake all last night again, and didn't relieve the congestion, so it's a one-time thing. Pseudoephedrine's on the banned-substance list for the Olympics, so I have to list the run as drug-aided.

............
If you read this right after I post it, I just heard that my list is being played on 89.3 The Current's "My 3 Songs" at noon. It's the second time I've been allowed to program; the first time was songs from The Clash, Big Audio Dynamite and Carbon/Silicon, Mick Jones' bands of the past 30 years. I've forgotten what today's will be, as I made the request months ago.

Chocolate vs. Banana

2012-01-12T11:18:00.000-06:00

I've avoided chocolate as a confection, as it's a mug's game. Too many have done it too well for too long; there's nothing that hasn't been tried and perfected. Plus, people don't really know or care what they're getting.

Chocolate by itself is unpleasant. It takes a ton of sugar to make it palatable, but then its complexities appear. The things that are added to it generally detract from its flavor. Vanilla is an exception, as it adds a flowery note otherwise missing. Coffee removes roasted bitterness. Almonds remove nuttiness. Cherries remove sourness and fruitiness. There's no variation in temperatures (mint and pepper/cinnamon/ginger can make up for some of that) and little in textures. The main positive attribute is that it melts in the mouth, but most people eat it too fast too notice.

On the opposite end of the flavor world is banana. It's quiet and not very weighty, which makes it difficult to make into candy, which mutes flavors still further. One can buy banana extract or banana oil or the chemical isoamyl acetate (one of the main flavor components), but these miss some of the flavors of the fruit.

There are no good banana candies. You can buy chocolate-covered bananas (which use coating compound, which isn't even chocolate), so it should be possible to make a banana/chocolate candy. The trick is to not let the chocolate overwhelm the flavor, so my plan was to make a banana candy, which could be dipped in a robe of chocolate.

This is what I got. It doesn't look like much, but it's candy gold (it's also under a yellowish light):

One takes a banana (I searched out some of the more exotic types) and roasts it in its skin like a plantain, caramelizing its sugars, then removes the pulp and mashes it with cream. Then that mixture is repeatedly frozen and thawed to break open the cell walls. The result is passed through a sieve and the solids further extracted with rum-based vanilla extract and then with heated cream. Sugar is added and the mass is heated to soft ball stage and rapidly cooled, aerated with frappe and agitated until set.

It's good as is, but cut into shapes, coated with dark chocolate and garnished with a macadamia nut, it's spectacular.

A day at the races (and assorted oddities)

2012-01-10T11:28:00.000-06:00

Last night, I went to the Meet of the Miles at the University of Minnesota. It'd been a while since I'd been in Dinkytown and it's interesting to see the changes, how student life has changed and how it's stayed the same. I plan on doing some damage at this race next year, so I wanted to get a feel for the place again; the first time I ran in the fieldhouse, there was only a dirt track and a lot of the people racing last night had not yet been born. On the other hand, there were a lot of old-timers; some of these races become a who's-who, with people decades past their glory days trying to scrape out one more age-class record; that will be me pretty soon.

It's hard not to race when the competitive juices are flowing. I did a couple of laps on the track with a few pick-ups and I was hanging with the 4:45 mile crowd. I wanted to race. I could've raced (if barely breaking 6 minutes counts as "racing" for me). My left ankle was creaking a bit and I could feel some tightness in my hips and back, but I was not struggling to breathe, which is my main worry with asthma and dry air.

My main competition was not there. One was in surgery, one was officiating at the race, one is not racing in the winter. What I noticed overall was that no one takes the race as seriously as I do. Had I raced, I would've pushed and probably got myself hurt. So, not racing was the right decision.

I'm supposed to be running right this minute. It's supposed to be 50 degrees today (in Minnesota in January!), but it was only 29 on my thermometer when I planned to start, so I'm holding off. The plan is 9 miles with 4-6 hard quarter miles thrown in. We'll see.

More changes

For those interested in my personal life, last year I went back to an old relationship ("like a dog to his vomit") and it's ended again, so it's time to make a clean break. Fresh starts in January seem to be the order of the day. The woman who made last year miserable is one of these [you can probably narrow the field easily]:

Fresh Start

2012-01-08T13:04:00.000-06:00

I made some big decisions in the first week of this year, among them some about running. For one, I'm not going to run an ultra this year - immediately, I felt a huge burden being removed. Never again will I think I have to go to bed early so I can get up early to drive somewhere to run trails for hours; instead, I wake up and head out my back door for a few miles. No more thoughts about hydration packs or gels, chafing or swelling. I look forward to my runs again, rather than dread them.

And it shows. I'm in terrible shape, but I'm improving quickly, now running closer to 8 minutes per mile than 10.

The difficult adjustment is not jumping into running too hard. It's going to take time to get where I want to be and I find myself trying to hold back. If I can keep doing what I'm doing and avoid racing until I'm ready, if I can stop a workout before it becomes a race, if I can have the patience to let things develop naturally, I think I may have a comeback.

New Year's Irresolution

2012-01-04T11:52:00.000-06:00

My resolution for the new year was to pick a running plan and stick with it. I lasted 3 days.

I can't convince myself to train for 9 months and spend $500-$600 to run one race I can't do more in than finish. So, the whole "get Sawtooth monkey off my back" is gone again. [The cost includes entry, lodging, gas, food, new equipment, etc.]

And, since I'm not planning on running it, the lead-up races are off as well and I start the year with nothing but a plan I won't be using. Here's what I came up with; there's nothing you haven't heard before.

Marathon times and types of runner

There's little correlation between road marathon times and Sawtooth 100 finish times, partly because the races are so different, but mostly because there are subcategories of finishers. Take your marathon time, multiply it by 8.5 and you get the time should be able to finish Sawtooth. The winners are (generally) all about 2:31-2:36 marathoners and that gives them a finish of about 21.5 hours, which would be a record; the actual finish times are more reflective of the weather in each year. That also means a 4:30 marathoner should be able to beat the 38 hour cut-off, but there again, the subtypes are important.

Here's the skinny: If you can run a marathon in 3:30, you can finish Sawtooth and how you train isn't important; just finish a couple of trail ultras in preparation to get a feel for it. The slower you are in the marathon, the harder it gets to beat the cut-off and, by 4:30 it gets iffy. If you can't break 5:00, you probably can't finish the 100.

Some people run a 4:30 as an all-out race, training at 11-12 minutes per mile and doing very specific faster runs. Others train more at 9.5-10 minutes per mile and the marathon is more of a glorified long training run. Still others could run much faster than 4:30, but just cruise through comfortably, including many that see the marathon as just a short training run in their preparation for 100 milers. If you're in the first category, your chances of finishing are much worse than if you're one of the others.

Long runs

One of the hardest things for me to learn was that in long runs, longer is not always better, nor is faster better.

There are two main ways to race. In shorter races, even pacing is the best plan; as you get closer to the end, the pace gets harder to maintain and your heart rate increases. In 100 milers, even pacing is impossible, even if one ran on flat ground; it's just impractical to try to start a race that slowly. Instead, one goes with constant effort, where one's heart rate stays constant, but the pace slows.

There's four stages of race. There's a period at the start of even pace, then a period of gradual slowing, then a period of sharply decreasing pace, then a death march shuffle that also gradually slows. Some people start slowing immediately, some manage to run 5-7 hours at a relatively constant speed. Starting at too hard an effort level means hitting that steep decrease - the faster you start, the sooner the dropoff comes.

Wearing a heart rate monitor in long races, I found a mathematical model that told me what heart rate I could maintain for races of different duration. It wouldn't work for others. Good ultrarunners find the right effort level by experience. For finishing, it's better to underestimate what one can do.

For 100 miles on a hilly trail, a long run of 4-5 hours is about right. It should be done at the effort level one plans for the race. Improvement is measured by how much mileage one can do in that time and by how little one slows over that time.

Running this too fast turns it into a race and one doesn't recover for about 5 weeks. If you can't do it every week and improve a bit each time, you're working too hard.

The hill run.

The long run, even though it seems glacially slow, is a hard run. One can only manage two long hard runs per week and the other one should be on hills of at least the steepness of the race course (200 feet of climb per mile for Sawtooth). People had always told me that one does the hills to strengthen the legs and that is the reason at the beginning, but it's not the whole story. Because the 100 is being done at constant effort, one has to be able to go uphill without one's heartrate skyrocketing; walking uphill is the common way to do it, but one can learn to slowly run uphill without much increase in effort. One's heart rate drops on downhills unless running extremely fast, so the faster one can run downhill - and stay in control and not hurt oneself - the better. Watching ultras, you can see the experienced runners by how they run downhill.

This hill run I make 2.5-3 hours long and I put it in the middle of the week, with the long run on the weekend. This usually means either running in the dark or after a meal, both of which are useful in a 100 miler. There are those who put two long runs back-to-back on the weekend, which they say forces one to not run the first long run too hard, but I think it's more a matter of convenience of scheduling and the way I've set things, it'd be way too hard. Adding the two long runs together gives 6.5-8 hours, which is a not uncommon time for a hilly 50K or a flat 50 mile, which can be substituted on occasion.

Mileage

The other days of the week, I have 1 hour of running on roads, done at the pace one would use in training for a marathon, the week's total being about 12 hours of running, which is a lot for the slowest runners and not very much for the fastest. These runs bring consistency, let one know if one's recovering adequately and give one a gauge of finishing times [Run pace times 0.85 equals marathon pace. Then multiply by 26.2 and then by the 8.5 multiplier above]. High mileage runners would want a second workout on these easy days, which I would make 30-60 minutes, but cross-trained.

This turns out, because the two long runs are done so slowly, to be the same number of miles per week I'd recommend for a marathon.

Speedwork

It's 100 miles. Don't bother.

Yet another year wrap-up post

2012-01-02T11:13:00.001-06:00

I've just spent hours reading what people did last year, many of them writing for the first time in a year. I'll be brief.

I ran 2063 miles in 2011. Here's some frame of reference:
2011: 2000 miles
2010: 1800
2009: 2400
2008: 2700
2007: 3100
1985: 4200
Zach Bitter in 2011: 5700.
(I'm not bitter, I'm quick.)

I didn't finish an ultra last year, only ran over the marathon distance in training once or twice, did one 25K and one 10 Mile trail race. I ran well from January to March, then got ill and didn't recover until October, when I started ramping up again. Still, it's better than last year... last year I was really sick.

On to 2012, the year of the new age class.
[Added: and if anyone cares, I'm starting the year 9 lbs. lighter than last year, with a waist 2 inches smaller... but I'm learning to make molded chocolates, so that might change soon.]

Bookends

2011-12-30T10:41:00.003-06:00

I started the year with a good writing post, so I'll try to end with one.

Injured Memory

It was on a warm July day that, reaching for a blooming aster, I broke my ankle on a piece of Minnesota greenstone.

Except asters don't bloom in July. It was warm, too warm for fall, not necessarily July, but it couldn't have been an aster.

I remember the sun on the stone, which wasn't green. I don't know rocks, but I remember their names. Corundum. Anorthosite. Rhodoclast. It was northern Minnesota, where greenstone exists, greenstone is almost as hard as diamond and it was harder than my bones, so I remember it as greenstone.

And I couldn't have broken an ankle. An ankle is a joint; one sprains an ankle or breaks a bone. What I remember isn't the injury but the pain.

Pain has kept me company. Pain and I go way back. I'll answer if pain calls in the night. Pain might overstay its welcome, but I can't help but recognize it when it comes.

With pain comes clarity. It etches moments into permanence. It was warm in northern Minnesota when I reached for a flower and hurt myself. That I can't forget. The rest is just words to tell the story.

Just Start

"Just start," he said. "If it isn't right, you can always fix it later. If it doesn't work out, there's always next time."

That's when I knew I was no longer young. Life is written on a burning page; the part that's gone is irreplaceable and constantly gaining. You can't write fast enough. You hit the bottom of the page, writing ever smaller, cramming in words, often repeating the parts you've lost and want to hold onto forever. There is no second page.

I saw the young man again, a thousand half-finished, poorly-constructed pieces, in constant motion but headed nowhere, yet inexorably headed to his own old age. I envied him and I pitied him, for I had been him and he would be me.

Or maybe he wouldn't be so lucky. Some pages are short. You'd better get moving, young man, just in case. Just start.

20 Trash Films I Saw in 2011

2011-12-28T10:56:00.000-06:00

I was years behind in my bad movie viewing, so I saw a bunch of films in a short period of time. These are not exactly typical of what I watch on a regular basis!

Asian Sequel Title: Random Noun Generator

First, three pretty good films that need new titles:
1) Battle Girl: Living Dead in Tokyo Bay
2) Female Convict Scorpion: Jailhouse 41
3) Wandering Ginza Butterfly 2: She-Cat Gambler

You're no Ed Wood, Jr.

There are people who claim that Uwe Boll (there might be an umlaut in that name) is the worst director of our time, so I've been checking his back catalog. I honestly can't remember a thing about any of these films of his.

4) Blood Rayne
5) Blackwoods
6) Sanctimony

Instant Cult Status

Sometimes a movie gathers a following for inexplicable reasons. Here are 3.

7) Birdemic: Shock and Terror. There's some discussion about just how aware the director/producer/writer of this film is of how awful the film is. Personally, I think he tried to make a good movie, realized he couldn't, then went on to intentionally play up the badness. Nevertheless, it makes for fun viewing.

8) The Human Centipede. This film starts with a truly horrific premise and delivers in an extremely nauseating fashion, meaning it actually works, if that's what you want to see. The sequel, everyone tells me is a complete waste of time.

9) Vasa de Noces. I can't even publish the English title of this movie that features bestiality. I've heard that this somehow made the art house circuit a few years ago. It's unwatchably dull.

Unscary monsters

At least as early as 1935's Murder by Television, there have been films about unlikely killer objects. I often get sucked into watching films like Attack of the Killer Refrigerator, wondering how they could make it into a movie. Again, here's 3:

10) Death Bed - The Bed That Eats. This film occasionally makes lists of "so terrible it's funny." I've seen it; you don't need to.
11) Killer Tongue
12) Killer Condom: The Rubber That Runs You Out.

Last Train to Tromaville

One way of making films is to start with the title; this is how Troma Films works. About once a decade, they manage to make a good movie, despite themselves. They're overdue. These were made by others, but in the same vein.

13) Oversexed Rugsuckers from Mars. Skip this one.
14) Ticked Off Trannies with Knives. Loopy fun.

Roughies

These deserve no comment, except that I altered a few words to avoid troll searches.

15) Entrails of a Beautiful Woman
16) A Lizard in a Woman's Skin
17) Nud.e for Satan
18) P.orno Holocaust
19) Strip Na.ked for Your Killer
20) Your Vice Is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key

Two photos and some running

2011-12-26T10:55:00.000-06:00

I passed 2000 miles for the year by running 23 on Christmas Eve. Here's a photo from mile 20. There's two types of willow pictured; the one that's not a weeping willow is one of my favorite things (lord... am I channeling Oprah?); in winter, on sunny days with the sun angle just right, they light up like torches. The photo doesn't quite capture it, but I think it's stunningly beautiful - which I guess confirms my midwestern city-boyness.

I finally perfected my sponge toffee and had to post proof:

The week in running

Monday: 3 miles, extremely slow - a bad day all around.
Tuesday: 6 in 55.
Wednesday: 14 in 2:41 with 28 times up the Indian Mounds hill.
Thursday: 6 in 55. Felt great.
Friday: 4 in 38. Tired.
Saturday: 23 in 4:18. Much slower and more tiring than expected. Right heel was aching, especially after the run. Still, it was unusually warm and I had to take advantage of the weather.
Sunday (Xmas): 5 in 52. Tired. Apparently, I'm less accustomed to long runs than I thought. We'll have to see how quickly my body relearns how to run slow for hours.

Xmas songs (blues)

2011-12-22T11:12:00.000-06:00

Sawtooth is Child's Play... On Paper

2011-12-20T11:17:00.001-06:00

Whenever I do something for the first time, if I don't find some clever trick others miss, I end up being one of the worst at it. Then I stay terrible for a very long time. I have an odd learning style: I have to see things from every possible angle, take them apart and study each bit in microscopic detail, try fitting the pieces back together in strange ways to see how they work, until I finally feel I "get" it completely. Then I tend to get very good, very quickly.

I think I'm at that point now with 100 mile trail races. After years of floundering, everything just seemed to "click" and now it all appears ridiculously obvious. The two things people kept telling me was "You're overthinking it" (well, yeah, that's what I do) and "You're working too hard." I knew both were true, but there didn't seem to be any way around the obstacles.

One of the biggest problems I'd had with understanding the Superior Sawtooth 100 was how so many different ways of training led to seemingly equal results. Data mining and meta-analysis didn't lead anywhere because there just weren't enough finishers whose training could be studied. When trying to get information, I was always stymied by truisms like "You just have to find what works for you."

I'd hoped to fill a serious void with this blog, as people either found immediate success or they either quit trying. I hoped to show what I was learning as I went along. Unfortunately, that wasn't much.

Now I could explain what I think it takes to run Sawtooth well in just a few sentences. However, if I did that, it would immediately raise the questions of how I arrived at my conclusions... and that took me 4 years to reach and would take as long to explain.

Right now, I'm in poor shape, dealing with some health issues that I think will keep me from ever returning to top form. Still, I think that I could run just under 32 hours if I stay where I am and that would put me in the top 1/3 of finishers. With responsible training, I think sub-29 is reasonable. If all goes well, the asthma magically disappears and heel bursitis doesn't bother me, sub-27 is a possibility. Breaking 24, alas, a possibility only a couple of years ago, looks like a pipe dream now.

Time for me to start training. Otherwise, it's all moot.

Hiatus

2011-12-07T10:14:00.000-06:00

It's the time of year when most running blogs hibernate until spring and I try to increase readership by taking up the slack. This year, I need a break. Every breath is labored, every step is painful, it's getting worse, I don't see it getting better and I'm tired of pretending that everything's going to be fine. Plus, I have some personal stuff I've been neglecting.

So, unless I feel like a year-end post (I surpassed last year's mileage yesterday and might yet hit 2000 miles), I'll be back when I feel like writing again.

It's that time of year

2011-12-01T11:26:00.000-06:00

I'm already tiring of the same Xmas songs played ad infinitum. Here's Clarence Carter mashed with some T-Rex and Whitney Houston, among others. You ain't heard this before.

Afton FA

2011-11-27T12:55:00.000-06:00

I'm working on two different ideas, one of which just might be brilliant. In the meantime, here's some photos I took at the annual Afton FA run.

Thanksgiving photos

2011-11-25T10:41:00.001-06:00

Migrating swans in my back yard (yep, that's snow on the roof)

Do you see "Irwin, the Christmas Muskie?"

Yes, there's a family resemblance

My aunt turned 90 this year; this is a great pic of her ca. 1950

Thanksgiving and Mephistopheles

2011-11-23T10:56:00.000-06:00

This year, I'm being thankful for all the things I wanted and didn't get.

I looked up an old girlfriend. The thing I remember most clearly from when we dated was the time I asked her out on a date and she said she was busy - teaching blind kids how to swim. That's the way she was; when she said she had a CPR class, she meant she was teaching instructors how to teach CPR, not that she was learning CPR. I think I had a fascination for her because I felt a challenge to try to keep up. When I last saw her, she was off to medical school; she was one of 6 admitted to a program that had 5000 applicants.

So, what did she do after we separated? Went to medical school. Then she coasted. She's a physician here in town; my sources tell me she's an adequate family physician with no real distinction. I had a brief chat with her online and she's done nothing of interest to me in all this time. Everything she'd done when we were together was done to make her look good on an application.

I thought about what my life would be like if we'd stayed together. We had no similar interests, my tastes running away from the middle-of-the-road pedestrianism of hers (pedestrians in the middle of the road get run over). How bland things would be, as I'd inevitably have to cave in to the average and polite. I would never have had the chance to become the weird, messed-up, broken shambles I am.

I do not like the person I would've become. That person probably wouldn't like me. But... I like me as I am right now and I'm not sure that other me would be able to say that. Now THAT's something to be thankful for.

Oddly, back in the time we were dating, I was reading Goethe's "Faust" (in German, no less). In the simplest explanation of the work, Faust makes a deal with the devil (Mephistopheles), that, if he's ever satisfied, ever is willing to take a second to stop and look back at all he's achieved, the devil can have his soul. I seem to have made that bargain myself. At times, it's a kind of hell on earth, as one can never be satisfied; at the same time, I'm usually happy in the moment, happy in the struggle.

Looking at my life from the outside, most people would think I have little for which to be grateful. It doesn't look like much on paper. Yet, I wouldn't trade it. So, if you ever have to slog through one of my "sucks to be me" posts, know it's just me forgetting for a moment that having a hellhound on my trail just makes the journey a little more exciting.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

It's a Sign!

2011-11-22T11:30:00.000-06:00

I have one of those landmark birthdays next year and I was looking for races that I could do to celebrate it when I saw my birthday: "08/06/2012 Bornholm Denmark 6 Day Race." It's a sign, right? Except that in Europe, they put the day before the month, so it's June 8th, not August 6th. I got it backwards.

Hmm. 6 days, running... backwards. Now there's a challenge.

What's that on the horizon... normalcy?

2011-11-21T11:03:00.000-06:00

Spent some time reading a favorite book translated from not-ancient not-modern Greek and it had me take a look at things from a fresh perspective.

What if I'm not a special case? What if everyone else is right?

The thing to do right now is just get back into decent shape without trying anything fancy or clever.

Winter running

Some people love running in winter in Minnesota [insert insulting curse]. The first problem is that it's too cold to run long [and don't go telling me it's all a matter of proper clothing], but running short means spending as much time getting dressed and undressed as running. The second problem is that it's hard to run fast; you generate your own wind chill, the footing is bad and you're encased in layers of restricting clothing. And, if you try to escape by running indoors, you have the monotony of a treadmill or the pounding on slick cement or the expense of going half-way across town to weave between bored geriatric types while trying to keep track of hundreds of laps.

Looking at how I've tried to deal with the situation in years past, rather than do the short runs, I tend to skip them, then add the time to the next long one, ending up with nothing but hard runs.

Brief plan to get started again

Monday: 30 min. AM, 30 min. PM
Tuesday: 75 (preferably with some moderately faster running thrown in)
Wednesday: 30 AM, 30 PM
Thursday: 75 (preferably with some rolling hills)
Friday 30 AM, 30 PM
Saturday 75 (trying to keep a slightly faster pace than average)
Sunday 2:00-2:30

Boring? Kinda. Doable? Sure. Something I can stick to? Maybe.

So, what's the story to be?

2011-11-20T13:32:00.000-06:00

I've been thinking - always a dangerous thing.

I'm a storyteller. In the end, our lives are just the stories we tell ourselves. The problem I'm having with planning to race next year is in deciding what story I want to tell. Is it "Rocky Balboa" (the sixth and I hope last Rocky), the over-the-hill athlete who feels something deep inside that makes him want to show just once more what he's got, even though he has no chance of winning? Maybe.

Ultralength races have a sort of clubbishness to them and the more extreme, the tighter that bond becomes. At ultras around here, the Arrowhead 135 group don't seem to bother much with anyone else, sticking to the "real" tough guys. The most common reason people give for running the Sawtooth 100 is to be part of the club, to be stamped as someone who's done the big local baddie.

On the 4th of July this year, I got introduced to a woman as someone who runs tough trail races. "Have you done Trail Mix?" she asked, it being the hardest race she's ever encountered. "He won it, dear," her husband said. She blushed. Then he asked, "Have you done Superior?" Well, no, I didn't finish; you see, I had a broken hand... It's the story. It's a good story, as far as it goes.

People are scurrying right now to enter the lotteries for most of the big races next year. Why? For the same reason people still run the Boston Marathon - it's the one people have heard of; after you tell someone you've finished a marathon, you invariably get asked "Have you done Boston?" (I have. It sucked.) In ultras, Western States is the oldest, has one of the largest fields and has some very talented runners winning - people who've done it tell me, "It's different. You have to experience it," but they never can say why. Everyone has some ridiculous race in the back of their mind - Hardrock is mine, others have Badwater - but, other than the challenge to finish, it's just wanting to be able to say, "Yeah, I've done that."

It's the story that's important to me.

If I train for the race and finish, what's the story? I don't always know in advance; the silly Wildwoods 25K race report is a prime example - I ran it and found the story in the running of it.

I think I need to outline the story before I can really train to run the Superior 100.

The only good workout...

2011-11-18T11:04:00.000-06:00

...is the one you actually do.

I haven't run for a couple of days. I just haven't felt like it. Part of the problem is that I've been thinking about a race that's 10 months away. The winners of that race tend to be able to do marathon at better than 6 minutes per mile and I never did that even in my best years, decades ago. In my two 100 mile finishes, I've finished last and fourth-from last. It seems a foregone conclusion that I can't do it well. I know I can finish the thing without too much effort, but the idea of training all year to run a mediocre race just isn't appealing at the moment.

I need to "get my head right" before I do anything else right now.

Long answer to some good questions

2011-11-16T12:52:00.000-06:00

Last Sunday, I did a long run when I was already tired from a tough run Saturday and a moderate ramp-up in weekly mileage. It generated a couple of questions that take a bit to answer.

"Why do you set yourself up to fail and teach yourself to quit?"

There's a philosophy of training that one should run easy, run long and improve gradually and naturally as one's mileage increases. I get it; I even advocate that for some runners at some times. It also happens to be why American distance running tanked between 1985 and 2010. If I wanted to train to finish 100 miles comfortably, I could do that, but it's not my way. Pushing oneself (one's self?) to a collapse point and then a bit beyond, if it doesn't lead to injury or burnout, works better for me.

"Why not recover completely and run your long runs faster?"

In January of 2007, I ran 40.5 miles indoors in 6:00:30 and thought, because it felt relatively easy, that I was in great shape to run a 24 hour race later in the year; as it turns out, I was in shape to run 9 minute miles for 6 hours. It was a race done in training, even though it felt easy and it did not do what I wanted.

I have a tendency to take a few easy days before a long run and that causes me to run the long run faster than the easy pace I should be using. In races, I'll get to the same point I get in training runs and then collapse, having to walk or shuffle from that point to the end... and this is true, no matter how slowly I start! I've tried starting slow and it hasn't helped; I just collapse at the same time, but at a shorter distance.
...............
Mike mentioned "training the endocrine system." That phrase is utter balderdash; it took me 2 years to even understand what it was supposed to mean. There's some basic biochemistry that needs to be covered:

The body runs on fat and sugar; there's a limited supply of sugar and an unlimited supply of fat. If the sugar runs out, the body cannibalizes protein and converts some of it to sugar. The runner tries to have the sugar last as long as possible and there are a few ways to do it: Train to use a higher percentage of fat from the start, either by running in a continuously depleted state (the high protein, low carb diet) or doing high mileage and two-a-days (Mike ran 130 miles per week and can run faster than 10 minutes per mile for an entire day); this method works after about 6 weeks of training, as the body has a survival mechanism that switches the body from using strictly glucose in the brain to using about 2/3rds ketone bodies (which come from protein and fats). The downside is that not everyone can do it - I can't - and it puts a limit on how fast one can run. One can run faster on sugar and fat than on just fat.

The way I train has me using both sugar and fat until the crash point, when I switch to just fat. I train to push that point as far as possible. Then I train to run as well as possible after the crash on just fat. To get to that point, I either have to run very hard at the start of the run or do the long run when depleted of sugars from previous runs, or both.

Foodie: A Love Story

2011-11-15T11:09:00.000-06:00

Yeah, it's one of those posts.

I was still a teenager; Stacy was a little older and a thousand times as worldly. She invited me to a party being held at a restaurant. When I arrived, I debated going in, because I could see through the windows that the guys there were all wearing suits that cost more than my car. I did go in, found Stacy talking with a group she tried to introduce to me and with whom she left me, while she went looking for some drinks; the conversation revolved around artists I'd never heard of and vacation spots I'd never see. I hate small talk. I hate mingling.

Eventually she returned with a tray (no drinks) and told me I had to try the stuffed mushrooms. There are some things that are just inedible: Coleslaw. Meatloaf. Stuffed vegetables. I tried to say no, but she convinced me to try one. It was a revelation; grilled creminis stuffed with a salmon mousse, shallots and something sour and green (probably minced cornichons). As a midwestern teenager, the foods I recognized came on top of pizzas; mushrooms were button, salmon was canned, pickles were dill. I had never eaten anything like this and couldn't get enough. In fact, the next day I went back to the restaurant for lunch - and could afford only the appetizer and nothing else - and now the mushrooms were awful. Well, serviceable, maybe, but nothing like the night before. I asked my waiter about it and he said they depended upon who made them; I considered offering money to find out who made them the night before, but I'd emptied my wallet already.

One day, Stacy invited me to her place. When I arrived, she wanted to offer me something to eat, but said there wasn't much in the apartment. Would cheese and crackers do? It wasn't food I came there for, so it didn't matter. She said it'd take her a minute to toast the almonds and she'd be right back. I thought: "doesn't cheese and crackers consist of... cheese and crackers?" She came back with something that looked interesting. "Try it and tell me what you think." I found the still-warm almonds had caused the cheese to soften and almost melt. The cheese was unfamiliar, not cow probably, a little nutty, but perhaps that was the almonds. The cheese was held to the cracker with a green paste I couldn't identify; it was tart, somewhat like a thick applesauce made with green apples, but with a different texture and a unique flavor. "It's manchego and quince paste. It's a classic combination. And the cracker?" It was nothing remarkable. "You're right. The cracker doesn't work. It's just there to give you something to hold."

It suddenly dawned on me that she had made the stuffed mushrooms herself. I recognized her technique, though I couldn't say what it was.

Another day, she remarked about how I like extremes. Coffee has to be overwhelmingly strong. Chiles have to be blistering. I had told her once about how, when I was groing up, we had rhubarb growing in the yard and we'd eat it raw like celery, dipping the end into sugar; my brothers did it just to eat sugar, but I abandoned the sugar and just ate the rhubarb; I liked the unadulterated sourness.

She told me I needed to learn how to meld the extremes into a balance. She brought some things out of her kitchen: rhubarb (out of season), stilton cheese and a ruby port. "I have to see you eat raw rhubarb." I had a bite of rhubarb, and then I wanted something else, something to take off the edge, soft, warming, sweet - in other words, the port. The port was a little cloying and astringent at the same time, so now I wanted something sharp in flavor, but smoothe in texture - the cheese. The cheese left an aftertaste that I wanted to remove with something sour - the rhubarb. I don't know how many circuits I made of the cycle of rhubarb, wine and cheese before I realized what she'd done, but I was a little sick to my stomach and a bit tipsy.

She told me, "People are not that different from food. You need to learn the parts, how they go together, how they respond to different treatments. The rest is just technique, and that comes with time. It helps if you have someone to teach you." Then she led me into her bedroom.

They say you never forget your first time.

Sawtooth training... long run

2011-11-14T11:13:00.002-06:00

Sometimes the coach in me and the athlete in me are at odds (and I'm hoping that sounds less emotionally disturbed than I think it does). This is one of those times. Yesterday, I went out for a long run at Afton; part of me thinks it was a good, successful run and another part doesn't.

Some people have finished the Superior Sawtooth 100 without running more than 20 miles or 3 hours in training on any one day. Others have finished running a weekly run of 30-40 miles and running nothing else all week. The more frequently one does very long runs, the more likely one will finish the 100, but it won't make one finish any faster. In fact, running long frequently just might make one slower.

I like running long at Afton. It's not as hilly and far less technical than Superior, but it's the best approximation within a reasonable distance of my house. It's also home to a 50K race, so there's a lot of data one can mine for comparisons. If you can run the Afton course in 7 hours, you can finish Superior no matter how badly you fall apart in the race; if you can run Afton in 8.5 hours on any given day, you can finish Superior with about the same amount of effort. On the opposite end of the spectrum, if you want to set a course record at Superior, you should be able to do Afton in 4 hours all-out, and in 5 hours no matter how tired one is before starting.

Two weeks ago, I covered the Afton course, 30 miles in 6.5 hours, then shut off the watch and walked the last two miles (my Garmin measures the course as 32.0 miles). It seemed like a nice easy run, tiring - but it was 6-and-a-half hours, so it should be tiring. I'd had a couple of days off before doing it, so I was feeling fresh when I did it.

In contrast, yesterday I went out to do the course and died. I intentionally ran hard the day before (and that run was itself disappointing) in an attempt to start the next day already tired. The 100 mile, at least to me, is all about how fast you can keep running after you're completely drained. To me, all long runs seem equally hard; I have no inner sense of the difference between an easy and a hard long run.

The plan was to run slow and comfortable, walking when necessary, and finish the course. Instead, I ran rather hard at the start, partly because my legs were wanting to run the same pace as the day before, partly because I wanted to catch up to a couple of people I could hear (but not see) on the trail. Five miles in, I was dead; I looked at my watch and saw I'd done two of the miles at 8 1/2 minutes per mile and got mad at myself for being so stupid as to start that fast. Around two hours into the run, I was unintentionally slowing, so I was running solely on fat stores (I took in a total of about 300 calories in the first 15 miles, more or less by plan). This was the point where I wanted to be, finding out how far and how fast I could keep going when I was running on fumes. I was hungry by about 12 miles and starting to bonk. At 16 miles, I was done with the first loop and had a breakfast of a banana, a handful of cranberries, two gels (I hate gels; they just happened to have caffeine and that I wanted) and as much liquid as I could tolerate.

I got back on the trail and was severely tested; at 20 miles (4:13), I was trying to convince myself not to quit. I had another 12 miles to go and I had about 4 hours of daylight to do it in. I could walk it, and no matter how slowly I walked, I could do it. It's one of those gut-check things you need to do in a 100 mile race - just keep moving forward, even though you don't want to.

The next two miles brought me closer to where I could break off from the course and go back to the car. I couldn't continue. I stopped and walked uphill back to the parking lot. The battery on the Garmin died on me (it's old enough it doesn't hold a charge very well any more) and so I'm calling it 22.5 miles in 5:00, which is pretty close to what it was.

Crunching numbers later in the day, I could convince myself that that run was really comparable to running Superior in 33.5 hours. So... a good run, then, after all, just not what I planned.

But I'm still kicking myself for quitting.

Good run. Bad run. Both. I just wish that, after beating myself up physically, I didn't feel I have to beat myself up emotionally, too.

Sawtooth training, workout 1

2011-11-10T11:29:00.000-06:00

Today I ran my regular hill workout, 90 minutes up and down (one sort of requires the other) the Indian Mounds Park hill. It's not a particularly tough hill, nor a particularly long run, but it's a good place to begin.

Besides the 102.6 miles of the Superior Sawtooth course, there's 20200 feet of climb. It's a little hard to imagine. Since half the course is downhill, half of it is like a treadmill set at a 7.5% gradient - if treadmills were strewn with rocks and tree roots. The Mounds hill is exactly 100 feet of climb in exactly one quarter of a mile, which is very convenient for record keeping; it also happens to be exactly the same pitch as the average of the Superior Trail.

It doesn't look like much in this picture.

By running this regularly at a comfortable pace, it gives me an idea of what pace I can handle at the start of the race, as well as a sense of how quickly I'll slow. 20 repeats of the hill makes one think of what 200 would feel like. It's a humbling reminder.

Once I get comfortable running this for an hour and a half - when I stop improving in pace (not counting winter-related slowing) - then I plan on doing some fast repeats. I want to know I'm able to run hard at the end of this workout, to know I haven't just prepared myself to run 90 minutes and quit.

Many training for Sawtooth do very long very hard hill workouts compared to this, to strengthen the quads for several hours of steep downhills. I have other workouts planned to cover that. Several hours on a ski hill always requires walking uphill and I want to know I can run uphill.

Baby Watch

2011-11-09T11:23:00.001-06:00

[If ever there were an obvious ploy to get click-throughs from other people's blogrolls!!!]

2001 was the year I went to a dozen weddings. 2006 brought a dozen funerals. 2011 seems to be the year everyone's having babies. Here's the current rundown from blogs I follow:

Henry (Steve and Sarah)

Mattias (Rasmus and Tracy)

Johanna (Niek and Diana)

And there's at least two more on the way:

January: Nic and Ellie
March (I think): PiccolaPineCone (and, yes I do know the parents' names, but they're rather careful about that info)

Okay back to work, everyone.
....................
Added: Might as well throw in my own baby pic:

Training plans, in horrid detail (part 1 of way too many)

2011-11-07T11:08:00.000-06:00

There's a lot of ways to train for 100 miles; it seems I've tried them all and failed miserably, but there's one crazy idea left: try all of them at the same time. I tried high mileage and ended up just being tired and slow. I've tried frequent very long runs and ended up being well-trained to run just mediocre long runs frequently. I've tried training toward my strengths (short races) and hoping it carried over to long distances. I've tried getting a lot of experience by racing under differing circumstances. I've tried cross-training, briefly, and hated every minute of it. I've tried doing a lot of running on hills and difficult single-track and... I've improved at that; when was the last time I wrote about falling or dead quads?

Right now, I could run a mile in 6:00, and a marathon in about 3:30-3:40. I like to think I could run 3:15, but realistically, I'd die somewhere in the second half and run 3:35. If I trained for it, I think I could run the Superior 100 Mile in 36 hours, comfortably and, if I really trained well and specifically, could maybe run 33 hours.

I've had to do a lot of thinking lately about what I can't do. I can't do track workouts any more; turns at speed give me heel pain. I can't run very hard for more than a few minutes because of asthma - at least for now. I can't run trails quickly for more than an hour, because turning ankles cause me achilles&heel pain. I can't run for hours on roads because it gives me heel pain (yes, that's a third different type of heel pain, if you're counting). I still get back pain when running very long. And then there's finger swelling. And chafing. And so on.

Still, there's a lot I can do, and I have a plan.

J. Robert Oskarmaier and Balonium-261

2011-11-06T13:00:00.000-06:00

[The title's a long story... not worth repeating.]

I've decided to get serious about training again. Crazy serious. Stupid serious.

I've worked out a training plan, looked it over and thought, "It might work, if I were a 2:30 marathoner." Worth a shot, anyway.

Today is day 2 of training. Day 1? Fail. Day 2? Fail.

Apparently, I can't even construct a decent blog post today, so training's just one facet of general failure, but at least I'm back to training.

Running lesson from confectionery

2011-11-03T12:06:00.000-05:00

Bear with me on this one. There really is a point for runners.

This seems to be the year for sponge candy. I first got reminded of it by Julie Berg's post. She didn't have much luck making it. Then I discovered "Wilde in the Kitchen" who, also being trained as a chemist, thinks like I do; her experiments with it are here, including pictures of some failures (and, if you dig in the comments, proof I've been working on this a while) and her successful attempt. This past week, I found another blogger who's tried making it [here].

I had a dozen recipes and tried those that seemed like the most probable to give success. Here's what it's supposed to look like:

And here's what mine ended up looking like, regardless of recipe:

I left off the chocolate coating, which can hide a variety of flaws. The picture I used was using the recipe from "Wilde in the Kitchen," where she does a good job of explaining the details. Something was wrong, but what?

In confectionery, it's important to know what the different components are meant to do. She uses gelatin as a foam stabilizer, but it ends up forming jello-strands that stick to the spoon used to incorporate it and it really isn't necessary, as others have succeeded without it. The amount of sugar simply decides the size of batch. The amount of corn syrup (or other adulterant) need only be enough to prevent crystallization; the amount needn't be precise. The water added just gets boiled off. The biggest concern is the amount of baking soda used; if it doesn't solubilize, it doesn't react and there's very little water in the candy when incorporated - I'm certain that far less can be used and probably should be added after disolved in water (an experiment yet to be tried).

The key to what went wrong is the color. Most failures have the same rather pretty orange hue. After eliminating a dozen possibilities, what I found was that the burner on my oven has a hot spot. At 310 degrees, one has hard candy, at 320 one has caramelized sugar. My thermometer was reading the appropriate temperature, but the opposite side of the pan was caramelizing and the reaction quickly carries through the solution.

I think I'm only one or two batches away from perfection now.

So what does this have to do with running? Most marathoners follow schedules written by some self-proclaimed expert. If it doesn't work, they try different ones until they find one that works. Then they claim that that is the only route to success. My sponge candy endeavors have shown that the specifics of a recipe aren't terribly important; similarly, the details of a training schedule aren't that important. You just have to know what each bit is supposed to do and have at least the minimum of each. The key to success in either running or confectionery is being certain that you're actually following the plan, rather than missing important points.

It's what's for dessert

2011-11-02T11:23:00.000-05:00

I just discovered wagashi. My kitchen may look more Japanese for a while.

2nd (and probably last) time I mention FB

2011-11-01T11:06:00.000-05:00

So... after a week on Facebook, I've made a few discoveries. First, what people think of it and how they use it are almost completely age-related. Second, looking up old girlfriends shows just why things didn't work out; one's friends consist entirely of family members and co-workers and she lists 1960's musicals as her favorite films and I've never heard of any of her favorite books - okay, she was (and is) pretty, but she must've had something else going for her.

The weird thing is that two people keep getting suggested as friends. One (skipping last name to avoid unwanted searches) is Katie, a national-class runner who lives in this area and works at a local running store; we have 7 mutual friends:

The problem is that we've met and I have not been able to manage a conversation of more than one sentence with her. Not really much in common.

The other is Joyce, another good local runner:

She actually hates me. I don't know why, but she probably has good reason. We have only one mutual friend. There must be 1000 people that fit the category of one mutual friend, yet she's the one that keeps getting suggested.

Then it came to me - somehow Facebook knows my weakness for redheads! Here's the author of the last cookbook I bought:

Wonder if she's on Facebook...

I Ran Anyway

2011-10-31T10:40:00.000-05:00

There were a multitude of reasons not to run Sunday. I ran anyway. I went out to Afton State Park and ran the 50K course (well, technically I walked 2 miles of it with the watch off and ran 30). This is the farthest I'd run since the Superior 50K last year. The first 15 miles were actually pleasant and easy and I picked up a deer skull on the way - so appropriate for Halloween - and saw "the creature" again; I don't know what it is, but it's black, bushy-tailed and in the weasel family (and not a skunk). The second lap was a slog.

While out there, I came up with some interesting (to me) ideas about training and diet, which I hope to flesh out a bit. Though I thought I was drinking a lot of fluid, I didn't urinate in the 6 1/2 hours I was out there; dehydration leads to swollen fingers for me, but they stayed normal size. I'm not sure what was going on with my fluid balance out there, but maybe it's a "you haven't run long all year" thing.

Coping Is a Poor Substitute for Happiness

2011-10-27T10:12:00.002-05:00

This blog will return to normal Monday, whether or not I do.

So long for now

2011-10-25T12:36:00.000-05:00

Well... so much for waiting for things to go south.

I'm not posting again until I stop being angry. I'm guessing a week or two, maybe more.

Steve Gets Invited to a Bad Party

2011-10-25T10:40:00.000-05:00

I got an e-vite; my book club is meeting on Halloween and everyone has been asked to "dress as the author of a book you've read in the past year." That's lame on oh so many levels, but it's the only invitation I've received so far.

First, I think I'm the only member of the group who hasn't had a book published, so everyone's probably going to come as themselves.

Second, though I have about 100 choices, there's not many I could pull off. If I chose a female author, I'd be spending the evening being told "I didn't know Alan Moore (image) was a cross-dresser!" Most authors aren't very distinctive in appearance. I couldn't manage Tom Wolfe (image); the best book I read in the past year was "The Collected Poems of Weldon Kees" (thanks again, PiccolaPineCone!), but his is a look I'd rather not try (image). A bottle of bleach and a fat suit and maybe I could be Bill Holm (image).

So, I went through the list of books I've read and I found a winner - easy to do given my looks, easy to identify and the author of a very good book I have read in the past year. Take a guess, then see if you're right. [image: book I read this year]

Questions from day one on Facebook...

2011-10-24T14:22:00.000-05:00

Who do I accept as a friend:

1) The person who has 37 mutual friends with me, but who I've never heard of?
2) The married woman whose very jealous husband I would never accept as a friend?
3) The 14 year-old?
4) The ex-girlfriend?

Anniversary of sorts

2011-10-23T12:27:00.000-05:00

A personal note (or four):

I've suffered from serious bouts of depression my entire life and I just realized that I've been okay for about a year now. I'm not sure I've ever gone that long before. Managed it without medication or therapy, too (not that I'm against those).

About a year ago, I had the swine flu and pneumonia and spent a very short time on a respirator or ventilator - I really don't know what the difference is and I'm too lazy to look it up. The fact that I'm having a little trouble with asthma right now seems like a treat in comparison!

I broke up with Jenny about a year ago and, after messing around a bit with my personal life, that aspect of things appears to be improving.

I haven't run an ultra in over a year.

Training 2.0: Time, not distance; time, not place.

2011-10-20T11:10:00.000-05:00

In the last post in this series, I stated that in the first few years of racing one should run without a plan, race often and race a variety of distances. After that introduction, it's time to formalize things. The first thing one should do is specialize; there are a few runners who seem to do well at a wide variety of distances, but nearly all of them train specifically for one distance at a time; everyone else has a small range of distances at which they do best. It's not necessary to always train for the distance at which one is best suited - I still consider myself a 5K runner who's doing ultramarathons - but it's useful to know where ones abilities lie.

So how do you find your best distance? If you've done a lot of races over a variety of distances, you probably have found out from trial and error. There will be some races where you seem to be closer to the frontrunners when not seeming to work very hard and some where you seem to work as hard as you can only to finish further back in the pack. If you haven't done a lot of racing, it's not as simple; gernerally, people go to various sources that compare relative race performances. Currently, the most popular of these is the McMillan calculator, based upon formulas Jack Daniels came up with in the 1970's - it works well for a subset of runners, specifically those who are best at distances taking more than 90 minutes to finish. I prefer the Gardner/Purdy tables from the 1960's, which seem to work well at distances from 800 meters to 50K (the 8K and 1/2 marathon are very slightly off, I think, and I can't speak for the accuracy under 800 meters). Both of these (and others) can be found in "The Lore of Running" by Tim Noakes. As a practical matter, one often finds one's best distance by doing races and finding oneself thinking "I'd have done better if the race were longer" or "I'd have done better if the race were shorter."

Oddly, if one improves dramatically, one usually finds that the "best distance" becomes longer. This is because one really is best for one particular amount of time, rather than one particular distance; as one improves, pace increases and one can run further in that amount of time.

I had long wondered if how one trains significantly alters one's best distance and I started running ultramarathons to find out, as it required a complete change in the way I trained. It was an experiment of one, but for me, there wasn't much change in best distance. While I got better at the longest distances, I got worse at the shorter ones, yet I remained better compared to other runners at short distances than I was at long distances.

When one looks at training schedules written by elite coaches, it's worthwhile considering the amount of time spent racing. A marathon schedule will be best suited to those running 2:10-2:30; for example, it may say that one should never run more than 2.5 hours for a long run, which is reasonable for elite runners, but will leave 5:00 marathoners struggling to finish. If one takes that 2:10-2:30 to finish a shorter race, say a 1/2-marathon, then the marathon schedule might work for that race.

Race plans and schedules tend to be written by coaches of Olympians and college teams. These runners are training for a specific distance on a specific day and thus are designed to have one "peak" at that one race, so that they have a chance of winning. The majority of schedules are also designed for marathons, as these are races one usually has to sign up for many months in advance and which require a long preparation time.

The vast majority of runners, however, are training for time, not place, and would do better to train as world record setters do. A world-class miler or 5K runner will strive to be in good shape in a given season or a couple of months and will race frequently during this time, waiting for the conditions to be right to go for a personal best time. World-class marathoners do something similar, training until they think they're ready for a good race, then asking races for (free) entry at the last moment; if the weather's bad or something goes wrong, they bail out early and find another race in a week or two. Average runners don't have that luxury in marathons or ultramarathons, so I recommend a three race plan: one picks the race one wants to do well in and signs up for it plus another race four weeks earlier and a third race four weeks later. The first race is used as a fast training run, but if the conditions are right, one can make the decision to race it all-out. If the first race is done as a training run and for some reason one's goal race doesn't go as planned, there's the third race to use for trying for a personal best. Three long races get expensive, especially if one doesn't plan to race all of them, but it's better than having a bad race and feeling one's wasted an entire year training for it.

Zombie Movies Ate My Brain

2011-10-18T10:49:00.000-05:00

I try to do a horror movie post before Halloween each year. I've avoided zombie movies, as they're being made faster than I can watch them; also, there's a problem in deciding just what qualifies - every mummy movie should qualify, I think, but I'm intentionally ignoring them. If one sticks to zombies made by voodoo, the list gets very short. Here's my list of good zombie movies, in rough order of quality, entertainment value, adherence to what one expects when one thinks "zombie movie" and historical importance. I'll admit the Evil Dead movies, I Am Legend, Night of the Creeps and Re-Animator aren't zombie movies to my thinking, but they're on the list anyway. There's also a cartoon, a documentary and a 12 minute music video. How much gore one can stand will decide which of these you'd care to see; I'd recommend looking up a review before watching any of these.

1) Night of the Living Dead (1968)
2) Dawn of the Dead (1979)
3) Shaun of the Dead (2004)
4) Thriller (1983)
5) The Evil Dead II: Dead by Dawn (1987)
6) Army of Darkness (1997)
7) Braindead (1992)
8) [Rec] (2009)
9) Zombieland (2009)
10) Dead Set (2008)
11) Planet Terror (2007)
12) 28 Days Later (2003)
13) The Evil Dead (1982)
14) Re-Animator (1985)
15) Dellamorte Dellamore (aka Cemetery Man) (1994)
16) I Walked with a Zombie (1943)
17) Carnival of Souls (1962)
18) Dawn of the Dead (2004)
19) Zombie Girl: The Movie (2009)
20) Return of the Living Dead (1985)
21) I Am Legend (2007)
22) Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island (1998)
23) Day of the Dead (1985)
24) Don't Open the Window (aka Let Sleeping Corpses Lie) (1974)
25) Fido (2007)
26) Zombie (aka Zombi 2) (1979)
27) Last Man on Earth (1964)
28) Night of the Creeps (1986)
29) Pontypool (2008)
30) Versus (2000)
31) Wild Zero (2006)
32) White Zombie (1932)
33)Night of the Living Dead (1990)
34) Seven Doors of Death (aka The Beyond) (1981)
35) Plague of the Zombies (1966)
36) Zombie Love (2007)
37) Resident Evil (2002)
38) Dead Snow (2009)
39) Bio-Zombie (1998)
40) Tombs of the Blind Dead (1972)

Honorable mentions:

Return of the Blind Dead (1973), Night of the Seagulls (1975),Attack of the Vegan Zombies (2010), Plaga Zombie: Mutant Zone (2001), Revenge of the Dead (aka Zeder) (1983), American Zombie (2007), Sars Wars: Bangkok Zombie Crisis (2004), Undead (2003), Land of the Dead (2005), Juan of the Dead (2011), Terror of the Living Dead (aka The Hanging Woman) (1973), The Serpent and the Rainbow (1988), Bride of Re-Animator (1990), Zombies Anonymous (2006), Quarantine (2008), Les Revenants (aka They Came Back) (2004), The Horde (2009).

SHTA Seven Summits Challenge Completed

2011-10-16T13:04:00.003-05:00

I satrted driving at 2 AM and reached Pincushion Mountain just before sunrise. It was cold. There were a couple of snowflakes. It was also dark:

Okay, not quite this dark. No photo from the summit, I guess.

It was dark enough that I started on a snowshoe path before I found the correct path. I discovered a car someone tried to get over the cliff. Start time 6:48, back to car 7:06. The only section I ran.

"The Simpsons have entered the forest."

Next was Lookout Mountain. Started 7:33, peak about 8:00, back to car 8:35. Forgot to sign the register at the top.

Tourist photo form Lookout Mtn.

What they mean when they say "technical."

Next, starting from the Oberg lot, I did the Oberg Loop and took some time finding the actual high point. Started 8:56, summit 9:17. The scenic cliffs were very windy.

At least the sun was starting to warm things.

Lake I'm guessing is called "Oberg" like everything else here.

I guess I can take a pretty photo if I have to.

Next was the long trek to Moose Mtn. Saw a lot of ruffed grouse. This was the first time I ever ran this section when it wasn't wet. It's still tough. Lots of ruffed grouse and horned larks. Actual summit tough to find and covered in fallen trees. Summit 10:24, return to car 11:20.

Typical view from north end of Moose Mtn.

Typical view from south end of Moose Mtn.

Drove to the Sawbill parking lot for the next section. First time I saw other hikers. Enjoyed the new boardwalks, though it was so dry they weren't needed. Left 11:42, peak 12:14, return 12:38.

View over fire tower remnants on Carlton Peak.

I hadn't eaten anything up to this point, so stopped for a light lunch, after realizing I drove way past where I wanted to be and wasn't thinking right. Climbed Mount Trudee from Tettegouche State Park, hiking up the high falls on the way. Completely fried going up the Drainpipe, I was discovered sprawled on the ground at the top a few minutes later by a worried couple. The true summit took some bushwhacking. Started 1:41, peak 2:43 (I think), back 3:48.

Thought I should get a picture of Lake Superior. It's hard to miss.

I didn't plan on returning to the area again this year, so I went to the SHTA office in Two Harbors to drop off the challenge logsheet. It didn't have the 7th peak yet, but I wanted to get my poster and figured they'd be closed before I did Ely's. I forgot they're closed on Saturdays.

Last up was Ely's Peak and I'd be doing it as runners in the Wild Duluth 100K were going almost to the top. Val LaRosa was working the aid station with another couple. I arrived just as Chris Scotch came through and went up with a guy that I had to tell not to follow me, as I wasn't in the race. When I saw what looked like a path over a boulder, I started to scramble and thought "jeez, this is harder than I expected." Once at the top, I saw the actual path, which is considerably easier than boldering freestyle like I did. The actual summit is a large boulder, flat on the top; it took me a minute to convince myself it was safe to stand on it in the wind and I planted both feet for less than a second. Started 4:52, summit 5:14, back to car 5:36.

View from Ely's Peak summit.

Actual part of the course! Notice the blue blaze.

So, time from Peak 1 to Peak 7 was 10:16 elapsed (6:40 running, including pauses), making me the first to accomplish it in one day, though I took it leisurely. What did I think about all that time? Not a thing. Turned my brain off completely for a change.

Superior Hiking Trail Seven Summits Challenge

2011-10-13T10:58:00.002-05:00

Saturday, while the Wild Duluth races are being run, I'm going to do the Seven Summits Challenge set by the Superior Hiking Trail Association. They give one a year to complete it (and in fact, you only have to do 5 of the 7), but I'm going to do it Saturday, hopefully finishing before sunset.

[Here's the checklist site.]

Trust me: click on the links below.
I'll be driving all night to get to Pincushion at daybreak. I've never climbed it, but my map shows the peak to be a lower elevation than the parking lot - this will either be the easiest climb or I'm in for a surprise. Then I work back along the shore. Lookout Mountain (which always prompts "Lookout! Mountain! It's coming right at us!") is next; I've never climbed it, either. Then Oberg, on the way to Moose, the top of which I always have trouble locating - it might be on the spur to the gondola. Then Carlton, which is not an easy climb. Mt. Trudee is next, which is another difficult climb; I'll be doing it from the opposite direction from what I've done before and hope it's easier from that side. Last comes Ely's Peak, which I haven't climbed and which sounds like it might be tough if I get there after dark. As Ely's is on the Wild Duluth course, I may have some company on this one.

Then a stop at the Spirit Mountain aid station, where I'll drop off some homemade fudge, if the race is still going on, I haven't fallen off a cliff and I haven't devoured all of it during the day.

Autumn Leaves

2011-10-12T10:40:00.000-05:00

News reports are telling us where the trees are at peak color and when ours will be, as if there is one magical moment to enjoy them and then they just clutter the lawns and gutters and bleak winter sets in for months. My ash trees are bare now - people had been photographing them only a few days ago - and the maples haven't reached that Mardi Gras drag queen "look at me! look at me!" state just yet.

It's time to broaden appreciation of autumn's beauty.

The wind caught the ash leaves and they were a million kites at the end of branches, rustling, spinning, holding on for one more day. Then a gust would catch them and like a cloud of yellow moths, they streamed; they jostled and jockeyed for position, gliding toward the ground and then floated for a moment before coming to rest.

After they had landed, they slowly began to dry and took on the appearance of a bowl of cereal and, at first, had the same blandness. But then other senses took over. There was a susurration, as soldier leaves amassed on ridges, waiting to make their move. Then, as they dried more, a crackling. When the wind finally caught them, there was the sound of bacon frying, a round of applause.

The smell of leaves begins to fill the air long before someone becomes the first to light a bonfire. Early, there's an earthiness, then a dryness that catches at the back of the throat, finally a musty wetness.

A look back at the trees shows a few stragglers, even a few still insistently green leaves. A green and yellow stalk bedizens a tree otherwise barren; then one sees the lichens on the bark, the nests that one had not noticed for two generations of young and a caterpillar looking for shelter. The trees are rife with ornament, just lacking in leaves.

The maps show there's nothing to see here, that one has to drive to see leaves at their peak. The cars that head out stir up a commotion among the fallen leaves. Fallen, they still have something to say.

Fight the powers that be

2011-10-11T10:35:00.000-05:00

More proof that I am not normal:

I got a ticket for parking at an expired meter. I decided to contest it. There were three obstacles: 1) The officer made no error on the citation. 2) The meter was working properly. 3) I was guilty.

The first thing to do was to control as many variables as possible. I was given a choice of venues, dates and times, so I chose what would be most favorable (if not convenient). That took a little detective work and deductive reasoning.

The next was to know the rules of the game. Though I was going to district court, petty misdemeanors do not go before a judge and one is not sworn in, so one can lie to one's heart's content without committing perjury. And lie I would. I would make lying an art form. There is no prosecutor; the officer of the court who hears the case has nothing to win or lose, as long as the number of people who are let go stays within certain limits and this was the most trivial of offenses, so of least importance to him.

I came up with two strategies and would choose which one to use after I saw my adversary who did not think he was my adversary.

When my name was called, he gave me the once-over. I appeared calm, confident and cheerful. No point in letting him know I was prepared to eviscerate him, if necessary. He had a ton of experience, whereas I was new, and the meeting was in his office, so he had home field advantage.

I said, "It's ironic, but the reason I parked in front of the library was because I was wrongly accused of having an overdue library book." He saw the irony and smiled. I was half-way home. He wanted me to win. While I said this, I took in the office for clues as to which tack to take. He had a poster of amateur wrestling; not a good sign, but wrestling has rules and this was a knife fight. He had a photo of his motorcycle (Harley). He had a fresh manicure. Plan A would work.

I pretended to be a hypervigilant anal-retentive type-A personality who lived in terror of ever making a mistake. If you know my real personality, you probably would've paid to see this performance. I simply could not have been in error; I offered no explanation, just let him decide for himself what possible reason could make me right. Then I suggested that I planned on paying the ticket, had my checkbook ready, but I was simply morally against pleading guilty to something I didn't do.

I won. Take that, justice.

I can breathe! I can run!

2011-10-09T13:53:00.000-05:00

Friday, I ran without wheezing for the first time in weeks. Saturday, I ran what felt like fast miles, heart rate up a lot, but which turned out to be about 8.5 min./mile. Today, a loop (plus) at Afton.

The long, dark, empty spell may be over at last.

Two Thoughts on the Superior Sawtooth 100

2011-10-07T11:17:00.000-05:00

1) The traditional thinking about Sawtooth is that, if you want to win, you need to get to Crosby (62 miles) by sunset. Only a few have ever done that, but all but one of them has gone on to finish well. The rationale is that the terrain is so rugged that you want to do as much as possible during daylight.

I got to thinking about the F.A.N.S. 24 hour, where Paul Hasse told me the race starts in the second 12 hours. The person leading at sunset rarely leads at sunrise. The idea is to run comfortably for the first half and then race, or at least slow down less than others, for the second half.

Adam Schwartz-Lowe's run at Sawtooth this year has me thinking that Sawtooth is also a night race; he missed the win by a few minutes, by starting conservatively and running well at night. The best way to run it probably is to run comfortably until sundown and then try to push at night. For those going for the win, that would be hitting Finland (50.5 miles) at sundown. Intentionally planning to run the Sonju root fields in the dark seems odd, but the energy saved might make the Crosby/Manitou gorges easier (not "easy", just easier).

2) I kinda want to run it again.

Training 2.0 Last Things First

2011-10-06T11:20:00.001-05:00

I keep starting posts and then deleting them, because I can't come up with a nice linear reasoning to follow.

One of the things runners often do is to train for things, not knowing if they can do them. A typical example is someone who runs a 10K in 42 minutes, then decides they want to run 40 minutes, so they train for that, and, if successful, they decide to run 38 and they train to run 38; this continues until they fail. When they fail, they go looking for a different training plan, assuming something's missing, or they decide to try a different distance. They see somewhere that a 38 minute 10K means they should be a ble to run a 3:00 marathon, so they train to run a 3:00 marathon.

At this point, most of you are saying, "And what exactly is the problem with that?"

The problem is that this sets one up to fail, right from the start. My thinking runs as follows: You run a race and get a time. You know you didn't train or race perfectly to get that time. If you train to do better what you already know you can do, you should improve.

I say: Race first, then train to do that race. It's backward, but it makes sense.

If you're saying "I want to race a marathon, but I know I can't race that far right now," there's a couple of ways around the catch-22 of needing to race to know how to train to do the race. The hard way is to simply run a marathon, no matter how long it takes or how hard it hurts and start from there. I don't recommend that, though there undoubtedly are some for whom that would work.

Instead, there's a little leeway built into training. You can usually run very well over a two-fold range of distances and okay over a 4-fold range, with a precipitous fall in performance beyond that. [And here I have to point out that there are again exceptions. Emil Zatopek ran the 5K, 10K and marathon in the same Olympics and did spectacularly well; he could also have competed in the 1500m, except for scheduling.] Almost anyone reading this could race a 5K today. You'd then train for the 5K, but race a 10K. Then you'd train for the 10K, but race a 1/2-marathon. Then you'd train for the 1/2-marathon, but race a marathon. Each race, you'd expect to fall apart before the end, because you didn't train to race so far, but you'd still be able to finish. Finally, after finishing the marathon, you could begin actual marathon training.

The Return of Jenny

2011-10-04T11:24:00.000-05:00

Apparently, I don't quit relationships any better than I retire from racing.

For those new to the blog, the only time I mentioned Jenny was after we broke up (I said nice things here). More than a year later, we decided to get coffee. My thought was that it's like putting spoiled milk back in the refrigerator hoping it'll get better, but we've known each other for the better part of 20 years; you shouldn't throw away friendships casually.

Some of the conversation:

"Are you seeing anyone, Steve?
- Not seriously. Kind of.
"Give me details. What's her name? What's she do?"
- Her name is Rio and she dances on the sand.
(laughs) "Would she get that reference?" [link in case you don't]
- Well, she likes me, so she likes old things.
"Oh, no. Don't tell me you're in full mid-life crisis. How young is she?"
- I'm using the modified Frenchman's Rule.
"Frenchman's Rule... isn't that half your age, plus seven years? What's the modification?"
- Half my age, plus daddy issues.
(snort) "You're not rich enough to be Charlie Sheen."
- Losing!
"Seriously, you have me worried."
- (pause, looking down) I don't have dating clothes any more.
"You need new shoes. How old are those? And your hair... how long has that been going on? Have you looked in a mirror in the last year?"
- Thanks. You look nice, too.
(laugh) "Sorry. I just don't like seeing you look so... unhappy."
- I'm okay. Really. I...
"Don't bother lying. I know you too well. I want to know you're okay."
.....................
(looking at a spot on my arm) "You should have that looked at."
- It's nothing. I've had one before, it goes away.
"It's called remission."
- It's not cancer. It came out of nowhere, instead of growing slowly. It's round. It's one color. It's got a clear defined border. It's not bleeding.
"That only applies to melanoma. It could be something else. You should have it looked at."

Later:

"Did you go to the doctor?"
- It's nothing.
"It's not nothing. It's something. You should at least know what it is. Let me take a look."
(looks)
"It's bigger. It's not round any more."
- I've been picking at it. It itches. Cancer doesn't itch.
"For God's sake, just have it looked at!"

Later (on the phone)

"So?"
- It's not cancer.
"Did you go to the doctor?"
- Yes. It's not cancer.
"What did the doctor say?"
- It's not cancer.
"Well, what is it? God, you're infuriating."
(click)

Maybe if I put it back in the fridge for a while...

The Curse of Steve's Evil Kitchen

2011-10-02T13:03:00.000-05:00

Illicit Confection #2: Turkish Delight

old boots, grease guns and metal rasps make candy all the sweeter!

It took several tries to make Turkish Delight, leaving me with buckets of sweaty glop (more than the standard amount for my kitchen) that would clog my drains or feed vermin. I almost gave up on this one, before having a brainstorm, which solves the whole weeping candy problem that ruins days of work.

A recipe that actually works:

1) Fondant. Combine 4 cups of granulated sugar, 1 1/2 cups water and 1 tsp. glycerin (available from cake decorating or homebrewing supply stores). Cook on high heat, stirring constantly, until boiling. Then stop stirring and boil to soft ball stage (240F). Remove from heat and pour into cool pan and let sit until 114-115F; the solution will take on a slight yellow tinge and form a sort of film on top. Stir until it sets hard; it will first turn creamy, then look light a white paste, before becoming rock hard. Take chunks of the fondant and knead by hand; pressure will return it to a soft consistency. Store overnight in a cool location (not refrigerator; an unheated cellar is ideal).

2) Starch solution. Combine 2 cups of cool water, 1 cup of corn starch and 1 tsp. of cream of tartar. Stir until starch dissolves. Heat on medium heat, stirring vigorously, until 180F; it will be a thick white paste at this point. Add fondant slowly, incorporating by stirring fondant in until it dissolves while continuing to heat. The solution will become slightly translucent, with a faint yellow tinge.

3) The brilliant bit. Pour the combined solution into a Pyrex container and microwave on high in one minute increments, stirring after each. The solution will become transparent, almost clear. The mixture is done when one hears bubbles of steam popping from the surface and the surface looks to be changing texture.

This is the critical step to avoid candy sweat later. Heating on the stovetop would take a very long time and risks scorching the starch. It is almost impossible to drive off enough moisture that way.

Add flavorings and pour into a greased 9x9 inch baking pan. Traditionally, one adds 2 tsp. rose water, 1/2 cup pistachio nuts and a drop or two of red food coloring.

Store in a cool place overnight.

4) The 3rd day! Using an oiled knife (or a pizza cutter treated with non-stick spray), cut into pieces. 8x6 rectangular pattern is about the right size. Dredge in powdered sugar.

If the pieces begin to sweat once they are coated in powdered sugar, dust off as much powdered sugar as possible, set on paper towels and blot, to remove as much water as possible, then microwave them again, turning the pieces occasionally, until the surface is not sticky to the touch when cool. then coat again in powdered sugar. They won't be as attractive-looking as commercially sold Turkish Delight, but they will still have a better texture.

TCM

2011-10-02T12:30:00.000-05:00

This is what this year's Twin Cities Marathon looked like just past 21 miles, just about when the 3:30 pack went by. It was below 50 degrees for the 10 Milers, but the temperature looked like it was going to get a bit high for the later marathoners. This is my favorite vantage point, as it's the one place the road narrows to a single lane in the most strategic part of the race - the long gradual hill before the steep hill to St. Thomas University.

Few people I know looked like they were having stellar days, though Colin was on PR pace and Bert (whose name escaped me at the time) was right around 3:00 pace in his first marathon. Most of the people I knew were either over 50 years old or are ultamarathoners, who went "slumming" in a road race. I noticed that runners are looking beefier than they used to - saw a lot of triathletes and cr0ss-fit types [if I don't misspell that, I get a ton of trolls here]. Also noticed that almost no one wears gear from other races, but instead advertise a team, place, or cause.

Oh, how I wish I could run healthy...

Training 2.0: The Early Years

2011-09-29T10:57:00.000-05:00

It might be surprising and counter-intuitive, but I think one should avoid training plans and schedules the first few years after deciding to run competitively. Run when you want, run as fast as you want, run as far as you want. Race frequently.

Runners improve dramatically and inconsistently the first three or four years they run, regardless of how they train, as long as they regularly run and race. The most common mistake made during this time is following a plan and then attributing one's success to the plan, rather than to improvement through experience. The second most common mistake is following a plan until one reaches a plateau in performance, switching to a different plan, and then attributing any improvement to the switch in plans. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of coaches whose reputations are built entirely on this phenomenon. It is a mistake to think that one will improve faster or more consistently if one follows a plan during this time; improvement will come at its own rate.

One reason not to have a schedule in these early years is that this is the time to develop a fondness for the sport, which is jeapordized by being told what to do and how to do it, every single day. Most runners will reach a point where they're tired and need a day off, but their schedule has them doing a tough run, so they either do the workout and then feel even more tired for the next workout (eventually leading to burnout), or they fail to do the workout, either falling short or skipping it altogether, and, if they don't reach their goals, they think it's because they didn't follow the schedule closely enough.

The most important thing to do in the first 3 or 4 years of training is to try a variety of races. Run races on roads, tracks, cross-country and trails; run a wide variety of distances. Over this time, one will discover what one's strengths and weaknesses are. As a general rule, what one does best, what one enjoys most and what one does most frequently will turn out to be the same thing. Race often during this time, as long as you want to race and you enjoy it; this is when you'll get "the most bang for your buck." Later, when improvement has slowed and one has to train more and harder just to shave off a few seconds, one will need to race less frequently, but this is the time to see what you can do with a minimum of effort.

With few exceptions, I don't recommend racing marathons in these first years (I ran a marathon the week I turned 16 years old, but shouldn't have; on the other hand, I trained with a runner who ran a 2:28 at age 17 and another who ran 2:16 at age 19, they being exceptions). It is difficult to run a marathon well without considerable planning, though with consistent training it is not difficult to finish one. If you want to run a marathon during this time, don't aim for more than finishing.

The other important thing to do during this time is to write down what one does, but not refer back to it. Record keeping is boring, but it is an important habit to develop. Later, when one is following a plan, it is often informative to take a look at what one did during the early years - after one is certain that it's imperative to do a certain workout to succeed, a look back will often show that it is not. At a minimum, write down how far you ran and how long it took; for most runners, measuring distances to an accuracy of a half-mile or mile (or 1 km) is sufficient and, if you aren't sure of the distance, make a guess. I didn't start writing down what I did until I'd been running for years and then I had one entire year written on one sheet of paper, which I still look at, wondering what pace my long runs were and what "fast" meant. The reason I say "one should not refer back to what one writes down" during this early time is that it often leads competitive runners to compete with themselves, to feel that they have to continuously strive to do more, faster, rather than to let the body adapt at its own rate.

When one is certain that one is no longer improving and it isn't just a temporary plateau in performance, it's time to start planning. That is what the rest of this series will entail.

2011 In Yan Teopa 10 Mile Trail Race Report

2011-09-26T12:02:00.003-05:00

Prologue

I didn't sleep well Wednesday night; for some reason, drinking boatloads of tea help my breathing (warm moist air?), but the caffeine made sleep a problem. Thursday night, I awoke at 3 AM, wheezing, and found I couldn't lay down and breathe, so I started my day (I read "Regeneration" by Pat Barker - a good book - by sunrise). Friday evening, I was coughing so hard, I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned and got out of bed half a dozen times and then saw the clock said 6 AM. So I did what anyone with asthma would do... I raced! This was not exactly planned.

I had a pot of coffee in an hour, while packing the car (I wasn't thinking clearly, so I just grabbed anything I might need). I tried to remember whether In Yan Teopa allowed race-day entries, assumed it did and didn't check the website. My wallet was empty, so I grabbed my checkbook to pay whatever the fee would be and was glad that I'd just filled the gas tank.

As I pulled out of the driveway, I had to think of how to get there. It had been three years since I'd done it. Highway 61 the whole way, except for the turn toward Frontenac. Was there construction? I vaguely recalled something being closed.

The drive down was uneventful, foggy. South of Red Wing, it becomes an unbelievably beautiful area. You just can't believe that southern Minnesota has such dramatic landscapes, but the jagged rock faces that seem to just jut out of the ground are a hint that this is a true trail race, with one memorable hill.

Prerace

I hadn't seen any of my trail running friends in months, which is why I came. I hadn't seen Carl Gammon since... 2009? I talked with a number of people, assuring them that I was not planning on racing hard (and everyone said that wouldn't last through the first quarter mile); one guy seemed to be eavesdropping and it didn't hit me until later that he was sizing up the competition and saw me as someone in his age class who looked like a serious runner - that used to be me checking out the field, and not very long ago, and now it seems foreign. I didn't bother thinking about awards; I saw Jim McDonnell and John Kendrick (who's having a great year) and knew I'd have to be in shape to beat them, so there were undoubtedly more fast old guys than awards.

We headed for the start and I took off the long-sleeved shirt I'd been wearing to stay warm and tied it to a post at the start. Looking around, I was underdressed compared to most, but it was about 50 degrees and not windy or rainy, so I thought shorts and singlet was correct.

I kept moving back in the crowd and kept finding myself close to the front, as others did the same. I really wanted to start slowly. For once. Larry gave us some pre-race instructions, including to watch for the black walnuts on the path.

Okay, so the race starts

It's hard to hold back at the start of any race, but this one's downhill for the first two miles, making it almost impossible to pick a pace one can hold for the duration. The first guys were nowhere in sight after only a few seconds and the first masters were close behind them; I found myself behind the first woman (who spent most of the first mile readjusting her shorts under her tights... that's what a warm-up's for, folks) and ahead of the second woman, which is about the position I maintained the whole race. One guy came barreling down a hill past a lot of us and I said, "He'll come back;" the first woman saying she hoped so; I did catch up to him at 5 miles, but he hadn't killed himself and ran well enough to beat me. The first two miles were about 7 min./mile, which told me I'd have to consciously back off before the big hill.

In the third mile, when the course is on a mowed path in a tall grass prairie, I started having breathing problems. I was panting, so I took short choppy steps to match my breathing rate and it kept me in position. This section of the course is rolling and not very memorable, though you do see hills in the distance and you think about them a bit. It's a loop that starts and ends at the park's entry road. I started having abdominal pain, which I hoped was just gas, but it was never more than a worry. At the road, one's just before the 5 mile mark, the second aid station, and the start of the hill.

From 5 miles, it's gradually (and sometimes not-so-gradually) uphill. At 5.8 miles, the real hill begins. The course becomes rockier and less groomed. I scared a deer. One winds past the bottom of a cliff, where one first encounters some rough footing, then the path goes up to the top of the bluff, with two sections of steps. I was quite happy that I only slowed to a walk for about five steps. It was here that I got passed by the only runner I'd see between miles 4 and 8. Just past the top of the hill (6.2 miles, for those who want to keep track), is the next aid station and every time I run it, they have to point me which way to go.

About this time, I had mucus running continuously both out of my nose and down my throat, making for an uncomfortable run. I also started coughing while running (something I was not aware I did, until it had been pointed out to me at Afton the week before by Tom Burr). After that hilltop station, there's a short stretch on asphalt and I picked up my pace. Then I saw Jim McDonnell limping ahead of me. I told him to hang tough and he said he'd rebroken a metatarsal. I've been there - it hurts like hell, but there's nothing to do until you get to the end of the race, so you just keep going, knowing adrenaline will keep the pain down until you stop. I thought two things just then: 1) After I finished, I'd go back and help him out and 2) Just how many old guys were ahead now - was I suddenly in an award position?

The next couple of miles are back to rolling hills and enough turns that it's difficult to tell where you are or to see other runners. There's one stiff uphill before 8 miles and I looked back to see if anyone was gaining. Then there's a loop, just before one crosses the road at 8 miles and you can occasionally see across it to see other runners. I saw no one ahead of me, but going up the incline to the road, I could see one guy behind me.

Crossing the road, it's more rolling hills. The sumac was in bright red patches and there's enough tight turns that I brushed against weeds and picked up some seeds and burrs. Finally, one enters woods again and one knows the end is coming. The trail along the cliff top is single-track, with enough roots to keep one's attention, though, if you look to the left, one gets views of the river from 400 feet up. The rock formation for which the race is named ("In Yan Teopa" = "Rock With Opening") is about a mile from the end; you can't see it from the race course, though you pass a sign pointing to it.

I heard voices. There's a campsite nearby and a picnic area, so I didn't assume it was runners. That's when I got passed by a guy in minimalist shoes, who asked me about Afton (I was wearing last year's Afton technical shirt). He was definitely not my age and I thought about whether I should try to race him to the end. Then I wondered about who I heard him talking to earlier and decided I'd hold back a little and make a charge if a master's runner caught me. I was really falling apart. The last mile was over ten minutes. When I made the turn out of the woods (the last little hill) and got toward the parking lot, I could see the guy ahead of me and I made a half-hearted attempt to go after him. It was too big a gap too close to the end and I didn't really push.

I crossed the line in 13th place, 6th man over 40 in 1:24:56, much slower than the 1:18 I ran in 2006 and 1:14 (?) in 2003, but more than acceptable under the circumstances.

A minute later, I started coughing. Then I thought it passed and I turned to go back on the course and find Jim. Then I started coughing hard enough that I couldn't stand and dropped to my knees, taking some deep wheezing breaths. I was soon recovered enough and I went for my cool-down along the course, about 17-18 min./mile. I cheered for those coming in and, when I saw Jim, he looked fine (except the limp) and didn't need assistance, so I went down the trail to get a look at the rock.

Photo taken from Matt Patten's blog

Results: Open men: John Storkamp 1:05:47, Kyle Kroening 1:12:05, Joe Boler 1:14:24
Masters men: Ken Hertz 1:17:54, Joe Bissen 1:19:17, John Kendrick 1:19:18
Open women: Lisa Truax 1:20:29, Leah Popp 1:27:32, Lana Lappi 1:36:46
Masters women: Lisa Messerer 1:33:19, Lonna Simanovski 1:35:59, Lynn Saari 1:42:54

Yes, every woman's name starts with "L."

Where I live and train

2011-09-25T12:26:00.001-05:00

Almost every weekend there's an event at Lake Walkathon. Today was the MMRF (Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation) 5K and I decided to snap a few photos, as I waited for things to clear enough that I could go for a run and not be in the way. My house is at the 1 Mile mark, across Lake Phalen from the start and finish. Each year, I look for Don, whose blog detailing his running while being treated for multiple myeloma is an instant cure for my complaining and finding excuses not to run.

Pre-race meeting

Shortly after the start

Seconds later, the first runners separate

Leader, 15 seconds ahead at 1 Mile

Kirt Goetzke (right) does more than 100 races per year

Don; dark blue shirt, middle of pack

Rather pretty for a city park, isn't it?

Shirts of Races Past

2011-09-23T11:03:00.000-05:00

I could only find half of my 500+ race shirts, but I went through them and picked out ones from races that no longer exist (and excepted the time I didn't live in Minnesota). I'm a fan of the single color simple graphics, as long as one can tell the race from a distance.

Labor Payne? Really?

Word order by Yoda

My first ultra (1981)

Ed Fitz 100K

Lots of drips in Mpls.

My marathon win. Good luck finding another finisher.

Afton Coulee. Really miss this race, even with the pink shirt.

The second sponsor listed: Pinky's Sewer Service!

This race just got renamed and got a different date.

All-time fave shirt. Couldn't find #2 "Sand Burr Days"

Set course record

I have crossed the river on occasion.

The Hamm's Bear, 26 miles, 5 degrees F.

Wait! Did I give money to the Libertarians?!

Now the Human Race, 8K and different course and date (i.e. not the same race)

Only race ever in North St. Paul, I think.

First cop race.

Second cop race.

3rd cop race...and those are blood stains

Forerunner of Twin Cities Marathon and City of Lakes 25K

Won this race 12 times.

R.I.P. R.E.M.

2011-09-22T11:30:00.001-05:00

Instead of anything relevant, or entertainingly personal, here's something... else.

The band R.E.M. announced that they're officially calling it quits. They were my favorite band from 1983-1987, and the end was a long time in coming. Fave songs? "Nightswimming," "So. Central Rain," "Fall On Me," "Everybody Hurts," "Rockville;" well, the list goes on for quite a while.

Admitting I'm a Stupid Weirdo
I once earned $1000 by holding my breath underwater in a fish tank full of ice for the duration of "It's the End of the World As We Know It," which takes about 5 1/2 minutes. Broke my previous record by over a minute; the emergency room visit ended up costing me... $1000.

I don't drink that much any more.

Beatles or Stones?

A question that crops up occasionally and which was relevant about 1966 is whether one prefers the Beatles or the Rolling Stones. It's really a question of pop music versus rock and roll (and I got reminded of it because the Stones also lasted decades too long) and sometimes you want one, sometimes the other. The Beatles were genius pop, once they ditched the early Buddy Holly covers. The Stones were best early when the delta blues and R&B records they grw up on were still evident in their sound - before they tried to emulate "Magical Mystery Tour" with "Their Satanic Majesties Request" - really early.

A better question is: R.E.M. or U2? I was never a big fan of U2; one compilation CD heavy on The Joshua Tree would suffice. Here, the question becomes more diffuse: brit-pop filtered through southern roots music or the reverse? Early on, U2 was a mediocre bar band ("Boy" and the second album are unlistenable, except for "40"), and R.E.M. was part of the ultra-weird Athens, GA scene that included bands like the B-52's.

I'd listen to R.E.M. and laugh my head off trying to sing along, not knowing what any of the mumbled lyrics were (I just spent an hour trying to rediscover what song I thought had "Did you eat my car keys?" ... to no avail). I was never sure what it was I didn't like about U2 until I heard John Lydon (Johnny Rotten of the Sex Pistols) singing along to one of their hits on his brief show "Have a Rotten Day" - pompous gits.

Bono and The Edge: take the hint. The time to quit was long ago.

By the album "Green," one had to wonder wether the R.E.M. sell-out was tongue-in-cheek or not. "Pop Song" took self-parody to a new level. They made millions of dollars, but they were done as a band, making appearances on Sesame Street. And then Bill had health problems. It still took 20 years to quit.

And now to feel old

I recently had a date with a woman who thinks Nirvana is an oldies band that plays on the classic rock station her father likes. She's not listening to my i-pod anytime soon.

Second Book of Training (chapter 1)

2011-09-20T11:11:00.000-05:00

Once, a friend of mine was giving a concert and called out to me in the audience, "Steve! Come up here and sing descant!" The look of shock on my face was probably priceless. For one thing, I only had a vague understanding of what "descant" means. Mostly, however, it was the fact that I can't sing a note; given weeks of practice, I might be able to string four or five notes together in tune, but it'd be iffy. It was inconceivable to him that anyone can't sing, as it comes as easily as breathing to him. He knew he was getting paid to sing because he's better than most at it, but he felt that that's because he works hard at it, not that he has some talent that others don't.

That's an important point to keep in mind when you get advice about running. Really talented people will tell you what they do and think that, if you just do what they do, you'll be as good as they are. That's why so many training plans fail; to succeed (if you're not naturally gifted), you have to understand what you're capable of doing and how to develop what little talent you might have. In my 20's, I was consistently running marathons in the 2:40's, but my times at shorter distances suggested I should be able to run 2:25-2:30, so I looked at various training plans developed by expert coaches - and I knew I couldn't do ANY of the workouts listed; in fact, I couldn't do any of the workouts they had for someone wanting to run 2:50. I decided then that I had to learn for myself how to develop a training plan [as it happens, I never officially broke 2:40 and it probably wouldn't have mattered how I trained; I didn't have the ability to run a marathon as well as I could run shorter distances].

I like planning my runs even more than doing them. I frequently get an idea of what should work, follow the plan for a while, get a new idea and abandon the old one before I get to test it thoroughly. For me, writing a training schedule is like composing music; there's a mathematical purity underlying it, but which can't be solely relied upon; there are elements combined in themes, which develop and come to the foreground and then recede as others replace them. In the end, there's a work of art, which suffers from a bad performance.

Like my musician friend, I have trouble seeing that what comes naturally and easily to me is completely alien to others. Most people don't care what goes into writing a training schedule, they just want to be told what to do. What I hope to do in this series of posts is to show how to plan one's training. Even though it's doubtful that anyone will fully adopt my way of thinking about training, there should be little nuggets along the way that one might pick up as valuable. At the very least, one should be able to look at a schedule written by someone else and be able to see if it makes sense to follow it or not.

How Some Sawtooth Finishers Trained

2011-09-18T13:12:00.002-05:00

Whenever someone thinks about 100 mile races for the first time, the question that immediately arises is: "How in the world would you train for that?" There isn't much good information available on the internet (including the training schedule I posted and which has been viewed 2000 times so far) and those who've finished tend to say unhelpful things like, "You just have to find what works for you."

Three guys who finished last week's Superior Sawtooth 100 for the first time know each other - two finished together - and all their training runs are available at DailyMile. They're Jordan Hanlon, Ed Sandor and Ben Bruce. Here's a photo of the three at the start (stolen from Sandor's blog):

Ed, Ben, Jordan

DailyMile doesn't separate running from cycling miles in totals, and one has to look at each workout individually to see if it was done on road or trail, whether steady or with added speed work, etc., so some of the numbers, if you try to crunch them, look wrong. Because most people who read this blog aren't members of DM, here's a short breakdown of their training, starting with the race and working backward week by week to Grandma's Marathon, which all three ran in June. Each week for each runner averaged 4 runs; long runs and races are listed, but other runs are not.

Hanlon

100 in 30:21 (Superior)
42 in 6:08 with 19.69 in 2:44
36 in 5:37 with 3 in 17 (race?); 16.66 in 2:24
40 in 4:03
40 in 4:58 with 19.3 in 2:26; 10 in 69 (race?), 10K in 43 (race?)
78 (8 runs) with 19 in 2:55
0
22
28
0
0
0
36 in 5:27 with 26.2 in 3:14 (Grandma's)

It's important to put the marathon into context. The week prior, he ran the Kettle Moraine 100 in 27:25. He ran a marathon in 2:45 earlier in the year. Hanlon also did 3 cycling workouts (total, not per week).

Bruce

100 in 34:35 (Superior)
33 in 4:59
83 in 11:49 with 50 in 7:53 (Lean Horse)
40 in 6:18
101 in 19:09 with 15.5 in 2:59
44 in 6:56 with 15 in 2:28
72 in 11:51 with 30 in 6:26
42 in 4:23
80 in 13:03 with 30 in 5:06
41 in 5:36 with 31.1 in 5:12 (Afton)
60 with 15 in 2:15
21
44 with 26.2 in 2:56 (Grandma's)

Bruce, a triathlete by background, did more runs per week than the other two did, every other week.

Sandor

100 in 34:35 (Superior)
43 in 6:16 with 23.66 in 3:25
64 in 10:04 with 21.17 in 2:56
72 in 10:15
42 in 5:42
41 in 6:27 with 18 in 2:36
59 in 12:32 with 50 in 11:23 (Voyageur); 4.7 in 36 (trail race)
38 in 5:20 with 16.73 in 2:19
20 in 2:52
72 in 10:41 with back-to-back: 22.58 in 3:23; 22.58 in 3:45
66 in 10:13 with 23.14 in 3:40
44 in 6:31 with 20.4 in 2:55
39 in 5:33 with 26.2 in 3:43 (Grandma's)
......................................
So what can one learn from this? You don't have to do high mileage. You don't have to do a lot of very long runs. You don't have to run every day. It helps to be a fast marathoner!

Old Photos

2011-09-15T10:31:00.000-05:00

Don't have a digitizer, so these are photos of photos, blurred and ill-lit.

32:46 10K, 1983 (A very good hair day)

Great Mille Lacs Run 100K (1983)

Grad School (late boombox era)

1983 Twin Cities marathon (5th in age class!)

1982 Hamm's Torturous 26 (with brother Don)

1982 Twin Cities marathon

2nd, 3rd and 6th grade school photos

Just when I thought I was out, they drag me back in

2011-09-14T14:54:00.000-05:00

I've been reading reports of the Superior trail races and I really want to get back to the North Shore. I just looked up the date of the Wild Duluth 100K&50K.

Think I'll try a long run Saturday.

This Week - Some Race Results,Training, Book Review

2011-09-11T13:22:00.004-05:00

The early reports from the Superior Sawtooth 100 are in and John Horns won in 24-something, having started at a blistering pace in his first 100. Adam Schwartz-Lowe was second, also under 25 hours. Some others, first-timers, who finished and who may post reports are Scott Mark, Jordan Hanlon, Matt Lutz and Ed Sandor. Matt Patten and Kevin Grabowski dropped; I haven't head about Ross Jilk (who sounds like he was behind the 38:00 cut-off if he didn't drop).

Grandma's Minnesota Mile was today, the winning time 4:04 and the guy I want to beat ran 4:35 (and I'm in about 5:40 shape at the moment.. Grrrr. Next year!)

TWIT

Monday 5 in 39
Tuesday 5 in 40
Wednesday 5 in 40
Thursday 0
Friday 5 in 41
Saturday 3 in 23
Sunday 5 in 40

Sort of monotonous, but I'm running 8:00/mile, whereas I was running 10:30 in May. I'll take it.

I Read'em Book

I just completed reading "Possession: A Romance" by A.S. Byatt. This must have been a very challenging work to write and the author has to be commended on taking a chance when so much literature at the moment is pulp fiction or very short experiments. A romance differs from a novel in that it allows the extremely unlikely to occur and doesn't have to follow strict logic, as long as the theme and tone are kept.

The book fails as a novel. It becomes epistolary in the middle, a form of novel that had its moment in the time of "Clarissa," but which is centuries past its due date now. The two main characters are not memorable - I struggle to recall their names - and they are meant to parallel the two authors whose works they are investigating, which is a rather forced and obvious writer's trick. Their interest in each other seems forced.

The real challenge of the work is that she (A.S. stands for Antonia Susan) has to write poems in the different styles of the two poets, one of whom is supposed to be a world-famous forerunner of modernism and the other a mystical fabulist. The poems, of both types, are execrable. It is impossible to believe that several people would devote their lives to following the minutiae of their lives, though the details of academic rivalry and obsession ring true. She also has to write letters by both to the other; these do not seem like the same authors (which is partly the point - the faces shown to each other is different from the public ones) and slow the book to a crawl.

There's a twist of plot in the end that one could see 450 pages in advance, involving a coincidence that can only be called "romantic."

But does it work as a romance? The theme is the title: Possession, which is both meant in the ownership of the documents everyone wants, the ownership of little niches of scholarship and the ownership of one's own history and personal life as well as in "possession" by something, used in the sense of being obsessed with something to the point of being controlled by it. There are moments where this second meaning manifests itself, such as three different people, two simultaneously, needing to see if one can really see the fish beneath the ice, as described in one poem. The various characters, mostly caricatures (the American is particularly sketchy), are consumed with their work and the objects which support it, and thus are possessed. The theme, however, should have an emotional tone in a romance, and here it does not.

Byatt can write some splendid descriptive sentences, but they do not provide enough reason to read this book. She has talent, she has aspiration, she just doesn't have a complete work.

Sorry

2011-09-08T10:49:00.000-05:00

Now I'm NOT going up north. Readers of this blog are used to a certain amount of dithering, but this is getting out of hand. I just can't seem to pull it together.

I have a pile of half-read books sitting in front of me. I don't seem to be able to finish anything, or to focus. I'm sure it's annoying to others, but it's frustrating to me; I feel as if I'm slowly going mad. It doesn't help that I've stopped sleeping.

I keep starting to write things, which just fall apart. For example:

On the missing manuscripts

The echo of the past I sought was not your voice, but my own.
You were my audience, not my muse;
Whatever was left to express needed from me no words, just time.

I would hold in my arms a reflection of you
and repeat the words that once sprang from a younger man's lips
Yet it was not you I sought, but the younger me
for whom those words still rang true.

I burned the poems and walked away from myself.

The older me and younger me embarrassed each other.
The echo reverberated not in sound, but struck discord in me: I clashed.
There was not space enough; the poems had to go.

.........................
Ummmm. What the heck was that?!

I'm still hoping I can pull together some coherent thoughts for a post soon.

Next week. I'll write about running next week...

2011-09-07T11:53:00.000-05:00

I now have almost 30 posts half-written and deleted. I'm having some weird Blogger's Block.

Friday, when the Superior Sawtooth 100 is going on, I'll be in the area. The plan is to climb Pine Mountain (10 minutes), then scout out "Eggers Peak" (Point 2266) and see if it can be reached from Forest road 154L. Then it's on to "Lullaby Peak" (Point 2027), starting from near where the Gunflint Trail (Co Rd 12) and Forest Road 325 meet. Then on to Lima Mountain (a 20 minute climb). Then, depending on how things go, Brule Mountain (2226 feet) from Forest Road 152; this looks like one monster of a climb. If necessary, there should be a path from 152 north of East Twin Lake that goes back toward Eggers, for a second attempt. If I haven't disappeared forever into the north woods by this point, on to "Thrasher Peak" (Point 2223), which looks like an easy bushwhack from Forest Road 327 and maybe "Tomash Peak" (Point 2163), from Forest Road 326D, from which it might be possible to get a nice view of Eagle Mountain to the east.

At whatever point I give in (I'm guessing REALLY early), I'll head back to the race course to see how things are going. If it's close to sunset, I'll be at Finland. 3 PM probably means Co. Rd. 6. Noon... well, let's hope I don't drive 12 hours for nothing.

This Week

2011-09-04T12:15:00.001-05:00

Training

Monday 5 in 41
Tuesday 5 in 43
Wednesday 0
Thursday 0
Friday 0
Saturday 0
Sunday 5 in 41

Not an inspiring week!

Photos

Black squirrel eating black walnut (poor lighting)

My last "June-bearing" rose

More Devil's Paintbrush (aka Orange Hawkweed)

Just a fun flashback

Misc.

Went to two funerals this week and had dental surgery. All in all, not a fun week. Did not go to the State Fair and eat more foods on a stick (I got asked about that a lot).

Don't Go In Steve's Evil Kitchen

2011-09-03T11:26:00.000-05:00

I haven't done a food post in a while (and the horror movie themed titles are getting trickier), but I'm still procrastinating about running, so it's time. [This week in running: 5, 5, funeral, surgery, funeral, 0.01 (re-injured knee)]

I've been trying to perfect some of my confectionery, but this has been the most humid summer in history and I haven't been able to do much except plan. I've discovered a few things.

Vanilla

People love the flavor of vanilla, but they will never order it. Give them a mediocre chocolate, then a spectacular vanilla candy and they will rave about the second one... and then eat another chocolate. You have to call it something else; people love cookie dough ice cream, but what flavor is the ice cream???

The average person has a completely different palate for vanilla than a gourmand. Chefs will rhapsodize about vanilla beans and how the flavor cannot be matched, but most people prefer extract; moreover, most people prefer artificial (vanillin) flavoring. Double strength vanilla extract turns out to be different from concentrated single strength, as some compounds, such as vanillin and bourbonal, are more soluble than the minor flavor constituents and thus it is closer to artificial in flavor than single strength.

Turkish Delight

I struggled to make true Turkish Delight. 99% of the available recipes use gelatin, which changes the consistency; it's supposed to be gooey inside, but gelatin firms it. The other available recipes simply don't work - there seems to be a conspiracy among those who make it to keep it secret. They needn't bother. It doesn't keep for more than a day or two and one ends up throwing away most of it. There's a reason no one's selling Turkish Delight in shops.

Barfi

This has to have another name...

I haven't mastered this Indian specialty. Or maybe I have and don't like it; I haven't had any made by someone who knows what they're doing, so I'm not sure how it's supposed to be.

This week's thought

Julie Berg tried to make sponge candy like the kind made at Canelake's in her hometown. I'd forgotten about this candy and had never tried making it. It's aerated by baking soda, which distinguishes it from other candies. The quintessential aerated candy is marshmallow, but it's not very interesting until it's toasted; baking soda enhances maillard browning, which is the toasting reaction of proteins and sugars, so maybe I could make a premade toasted marshmallow!

This type of candy absorbs moisture from the air quickly, so it's usually dipped in chocolate, which would cover the toasted flavor, so I tried to think of other coatings. Airy and toasted... I came up with Rice Krispies. Marshmallow-like and with that coating... I'm remaking Rice Krispie bars!

Could one make sponge candy with Rice Krispies incorporated in it, so that one doesn't have the melted sticky goo of marshmallow, but a light fluffy toasted confection?

Time to reopen the kitchen.

My Favorite Long-Titled Movies of the 1960's

2011-08-31T10:51:00.001-05:00

I'm procrastinating about writing about running.

There have been a lot of films lately that have very long titles. Most of them are sequels or parts of series, the longest being "Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Blck Pearl." Documentaries always seem to have a short pithy title, followed by a colon and then a long title that explains exactly what the film is about; this led to the "mockumentary" "Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan." Then there are films that neither live up nor down to their titles, like "I Killed My Lesbian Wife, Hung Her on a Meathook and Now Have a Three Picture Deal at Disney."

The heyday of long titles, though was the 1960's. Here's my faves:

1) The Persecution and Assassination of Jean Paul Marat as Performed by the Inmates of the Asylum at Charenton Under the Direction of the Marquis de Sade

Usually called Marat/Sade for obvious reasons, this is essentially a filmed play. The playwright actually has a play with an even longer title! I loved this movie, finding it unusually emotionally evocative, but I wonder if it wasn't just a reflection of my mood at the time. I'm in no hurry to see it again to find out.

2) Dr. Strangelove, Or How I learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

Stanley Kubrick's only comedy, this is an often wickedly dark satire. Peter Sellers plays three roles and gets most of the best lines ("You can't fight in here! This is the War Room!") though it's Slim Pickens' demise that everyone remembers.

3) Can Hieronymous Merkin Ever Forget Mercy Humppe and Find True Happiness?

This bit of froth stars Anthony Newley. It's a time capsule of the Swinging Sixties in its mood and surprisingly entertaining.

4) A Film in Which There Appear Sprocket Holes, Edge Lettering, Dirt Particles, Etc.

An experimental film from the structuralist school. Whereas commercial films try to quickly involve viewers in the plot so they forget they're watching a film, this tries the opposite.

5) The Fearless Vampire Killers, or Pardon Me But Your Teeth Are in My Neck

Roman Polanski directed this sometimes successful parody of vampire films. It's most noted as the final film Sharon Tate appeared in before she was murdered by the Manson family.

6) Oh Dad, Poor Dad, Mama's Hung You in the Closet and I'm Feeling So Sad

A generation before "Weekend at Bernie's," there was this film where a woman goes on vacation with her son and husband. Her husband happens to be dead. It's better than it sounds.

7) The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies

The first horror musical, this movie has become legendary for its awfulness, though I loved it the first time I saw it. The sumptuous cinematography was by Vilmos Zsigmond, who later worked on much better films. The second time I saw this, I was bored and I wondered why I had enjoyed it so much the first time, especially given how little I care for Ray Dennis Steckler's other films. I still think it's funny that they way you can tell Steckler's become a zombie is that he's put up the hood on his sweatshirt - that's the only difference!

8) Santo and the Blue Demon vs. Dracula and the Wolf Man

It's not a real film list until you include a Mexican wrestling movie. Santo (sometimes Samson) was a masked hero in over 40 films in a career that spanned decades. His most popular films now are the ones with supernatural villains. This one just happens to have the longest title in English.

This week's photos

2011-08-30T10:40:00.002-05:00

Painted turtle (see it?)

Grasshopper and his wooden cousin

Glacial erratic

Blazing Star with (I think) Red Admirals

Stupid human trick

Indian Paintbrush volunteers in my lawn (unusually late)

Volunteer crabapple

My neighbor's chickens (mostly Silkies)

Asparagus berries

This Week in Sort-of Training

2011-08-28T12:59:00.000-05:00

Monday: 3.5 in 34
Tuesday: 4 in 39
Wednesday: 3 in 29
Thursday: 4 in 39
Friday: 4 in 39
Saturday: 4 in 38
Sunday: 5 in 42, with 8x200-600

Last week, I was getting banged up - actually it started Aug. 11 - and I was trying to back off to keep from getting seriously hurt. Then, on the 21st, I felt good and pushed. Thus, this week I had to recover from an injury. I'd pulled the upper attachment of my left semimembranosus or semitendinosus muscle (I always forget which is which), so I started babying it and then I pulled the lower attachment at the knee, then I babied it some more and pulled the popliteus.

Sometimes, step one is realizing you should be at step zero.

A Letter to "Vain Girl"

2011-08-27T10:32:00.001-05:00

When Vain Girl [I was tempted to give her a horrible nickname, like "Gitmo Gertie"] and I broke up, there were things I wanted to say, but didn't. Now that there's been a little time, I think they're actually of more general interest than I would've expected.

On my looking at other women

What gets my attention and what I find attractive are two very different things. A pretty girl is like a ringing cell phone: I can't help but notice, but unless it belongs to me, it's really just a nuisance.

On my having dated some very skinny women

Skinny only works when you're very young. If a 15 year-old has a growth spurt and is all arms and legs, it's cute, but it's a look that becomes harder to make work every year. By 25, you've given up on being Smart Girl or Sophisticated Girl or Stylish Girl and have settled on forever being known as Skinny Girl... and it's a little sad. By 35, you look tired and desperate and I'm wishing you had a topic of conversation other than what you ate and how fat your friends look. By 45, you just look frail and sick.

On cellulite

Stop worrying about it. Men don't care. Really. No man has ever said "I'd sleep with her, but she has cellulite." It's like frosting on a cake; men don't care whether the frosting is smoothe or textured, we're just thinking, "Yay! I'm getting cake!"

On what's really sexy

There comes a point, usually in her mid-30's, when a woman comes to accept herself, understands how her body works, knows what she wants and has the confidence to ask for it - and that's sexy. For example, redheads, when they're young, hate their hair and want to look like everyone else. Then they go through a phase where they go overboard in liking their uniqueness; they grow their hair long, dye it a more vibrant red and their wardrobe seems to become almost entirely red to accentuate it. Eventually, they realize "Jessica Rabbit" is not really a look that works for them and they cut their hair, dye it a more subdued color and change their wardrobe.

And that's about the time I hear you say, "Jeez, take a picture, why don't you? I can't believe that that's what you like. Did you see her shoes?..."

Added: and the fact that I've watched this twice doesn't make me a hypocrite ;-)

Two Thoughts on the Superior Sawtooth 100

2011-08-26T10:54:00.001-05:00

It's two weeks out from the favorite local ultra and it seems to be on everyone's mind around here.

Spectating

Running is not a spectator-friendly sport. The Superior 100 starts on a Friday, goes through woods on single-track and half of it happens in the dark. I plan to be in the area that day and will stop by an aid station or two to check in. I have an idea for anyone else who wants to watch the race.

1) Be at the Co. Rd 6 aid station (42.6 miles) from 3 PM to sunset (7:30). It's after what I think is the second-hardest section. The runners have separated enough that you'll get to see each one long enough for photos as they go through; because there's no crew allowed at the previous station, it's been 18 miles since the runners have seen their crews and they tend to stay an extra minute or two here.

2) Be at the Sugar Loaf aid station (71.6 miles) from sunrise (6:30) until 11:00 AM. Between this and the previous day's stop, you'll see every runner who'll finish. This is after the grueling Crosby-Manitou section. You'll see runners at their lowest point here and a number of them will drop out; you'll learn a lot about ultras from being there. You'll either decide you want to do the race some day or that nothing could make you do it.

That's 9 hours to watch a 38 hour race. Bring a chair.

Motivation

If you're running the race, make sure you know why you're doing it. People don't drop out of 100's because they aren't prepared or because they're injured, but because they can't think of any reason they should keep going. The motivation doesn't have to psychologically healthy - and you don't have to tell anyone what it is - but you have to have a reason. I know a guy who does ultras because it's the only time he gets respect; the day before the race, he talks to people and, having finished the course before, he's an expert. I finished my first 100 because someone who I'd beat by 2.5 hours in a marathon had finished one and I hadn't... and that bothered me enough that I wasn't going to let that situation continue. I'm not proud of that, but it worked.

Where the Blog and I Are Headed

2011-08-24T12:18:00.000-05:00

I'm about 20 posts behind where I want to be... sort of like my training is behind schedule. I've been trying to figure out how best to explain what I want to do and why anyone should bother reading about it.

Most people who read this are training to run a 1/2-marathon or marathon on the roads or 50 miles to 100 miles on trails. I'm going to train to do 1 mile on a track, preferably at national-class level for men my age. Though it sounds at first like there's nothing in common, I think I know how to keep people reading (besides stories of personal failings, especially in dating).

When I first started this blog, one of my goals was to write "my book on training." I've done that. Unfortunately, the few people whose eyes didn't glaze over immediately told me things like, "I read that four times... it's brilliant, I think, but maybe I need to read it again..." or "What am I supposed to do with that?! Just tell me what I'm supposed to do!" I covered all the details - excruciatingly, at times - but I never said quite how to create one's own training schedule.

So, I'm going to show how I created my training plan and show how it compares to those written by well-known coaches, which will go to explain concepts that get tossed around by people who don't understand them. I hope people will learn when a fast continuous run becomes a "threshold run" becomes a "tempo run" becomes a "time trial," plus a few other useful things.

I'm also going to try to cover how I implement the plan as I do it and how I make changes when things go wrong (for example, this week I blew out my knee). Eventually, it could end up looking like a standard training blog, pllus reviews of zombie films, experimental confectionery, bushwhacking in the Boundary Waters and the eternal struggle to find a woman who can tolerate me for more than a week.

Well, maybe it won't change so much, after all.

Foiled by Quantum Physics and a Duck

2011-08-21T12:33:00.002-05:00

This week in training:

Monday: 6.5 in 60. Tired.
Tuesday: 4 in 42 with 5xBrickyard Hill (4:26,4:24,4:11,4:21,4:28). Dramatic improvement in times due to taking the downhills much easier.
Wednesday: 4 in 37. Twinges in left knee. Need to back off a bit.
Thursday: 5 in 41 with 1.5 in 10:00 and 9x100-100. Left knee hurt sharply before run, heels sore after.
Friday: 0. Intentional day off to heal. At night, fell in the dark (closing windows when it rained), banging my right heel HARD. Hurt even when not moving.
Saturday: 5 in 47 with 8xMounds Hill, 6 fast (2:11,2:02,2:04,1:54,2:03,1:59). Cool-down with Greg B. Thirsty, very sore heels at start. On course of the Breast Cancer 3-Day walk and with view of Ragnar Run below the hill.
Sunday: 8 in 60. Spectating at the St. Paul Triathlon, I got pulled along and pounded the course harder than planned. Slept badly, sore throat and cough. Sore heels after the run.

Analysis

The Tuesday run equates to a mile in 5:21, Thursday's to 5:38, Saturday's to 5:07, Sunday's - if it were an easy day rather than hard - to 5:05. I can kill a course for 2-4 minutes, but struggle to endure for even 2 miles. I'd wanted to race a 5K on Saturday, but doubt I have the endurance to last the distance, which is bizarre given my training the past few years. I just might have a future at 800m to 1500m... if I don't kill myself in training.

Today's Title

C'mon, would you have read this if it were called "Training Week Aug 15-21?"

Recent Photos

2011-08-18T10:40:00.000-05:00

Horsemint (Monarda punctata)

Obedient Plant (Physostegia virginiana)

Rattlesnake Master (Eryngium yuccifolium)

Long fingers, small ankles

Mounds Hill above downtown St. Paul

My sister claims there are no good recent photos of her. She may be right.

Jonesing to Race

2011-08-17T10:47:00.000-05:00

I have never used the word "Jonesing" before - it has a nice 1974-ish ring to it.

I've had four or five good weeks of training and part of me just wants to go out and run a hard race somewhere. There's a race this weekend that I could probably win and which is so low-key that the results wouldn't get posted anywhere; plus, this is supposed to be the first Saturday with good weather since... well, I'd have to look it up, but I'd guess late May. I'm reading about everyone's upcoming races, especially the Superior races and I'm starting to see the first change in color on the trees, announcing that the fall racing season is here; it makes it hard to not race.

I told myself that I wouldn't race until I was ready. That's not until late October at the earliest and then the choices among races gets small. It's hard to think I'll skip the entire fall season.

Looking through my notes, I can find good reason not to head out to race now. While I've been improving fast, I'm now back to what I was considering terrible only a few years ago. I've been down so long, it was starting to look like a new "normal." Running a race now would only set my training back, risk injury and be frustrating. I'd have a finish time that would just confirm how far I have yet to go.

I'm going to try to channel the enthusiasm to race into my workouts, but delayed gratification? That's for grown-ups! I want to race now!

Climbing Lundeen Mountain

2011-08-15T13:57:00.001-05:00

I wanted a little adventure. I got an ordeal.

Planning

Good maps are essential. Unfortunately, the topo maps I'd ordered hadn't arrived, the MN DNR website was down (government shutdown) and online resources were a little out of date. I got the latitude and longitude of my goal from trails.com (starting from 30 miles away) and printed out a little map to carry with me, which I waterproofed with a bar of wax. Just before heading out, the DNR site was back, I got more data from the BWCA site and I felt I had a handle on things.

I stopped at the Tofte Ranger Station to see if they could give me additional info. "Never heard of it," was the official view. I said it was only a few miles away, west of Crescent Lake. That she knew well; she pulled out her topo map and the Forest Service map and I pointed it out, asking what the little white box marked "2045" meant. "Private property," she said. "Well, I guess I won't go there, then," I muttered, purchasing a copy of the map ($9, the map's from 2003), as it was what would be used by the people who'd have to find me if I got lost. As I got in my car, I realized I had told the rangers I wasn't going there, when what I meant was that I wasn't going to that tiny patch of private property, which was the shorter south peak of the hill whose north peak I was climbing. Now it was official that no one knew where I was going but me.

Recon

Driving up Sawbill Road (County 2), I came across a bear crossing the road, so I pulled out my camera and tried to take a picture. The button for snapping a photo and the one for turning it off are right next to each other, so I pressed the wrong one and the bear was gone before I could get the photo. I drove north to Forest Road 170, "The Grade," the main route through the area and headed east. At Moore Lake, I could see the mountain to the south; I should've taken a photo [will, if I ever go by there again], but noticed that it was a true 200+ foot climb and just as steep on that side as the maps suggested. There was no way to reach it from the north.

I continued to Forest Road 1274 and headed to the Crescent Lake Campground, which is less than half a mile from the peak. I had an idea that someone might have created a path from the camp to the hill, but there was no sign of one. The hill itself is not visible through the trees at the campground, though it probably is from some places on the lake. A bushwhack from this side would mean finding a place to put the car (I'd stopped at the toilet facilities there, but couldn't leave a car there all day), crashing through someone's campsite, looking for a spot to get across a creek - which probably didn't exist, skirting around an unnamed pond while staying just outside private property and then going up a moderately steep slope to the peak or skirting all the way around the base to the south side and the shallowest approach. Maps showed a forest road and then a path going within 1.5 miles of that opposite side, starting from the west rather than the east, so I abandoned any idea of starting from the campground and hoped I wouldn't have to go up the steepest route.

The approach

I drove back onto 170, back onto Sawbill and saw the bear again! I grabbed the camera, tried to get a photo set up and then a truck coming the other way scared it off. I was not going to get lucky with photos this day. I stopped to look over all my maps, none of which agreed with any others. The one thing I noted was the privately owned peak was indeed the one I wanted to climb; though the peak to the south of it was listed as 2046 feet on topo maps and the Forest Service peak was 2045 and not the 2093 on the topo map, it was due east of Sober Lake, making it my peak. I couldn't legally reach the top; the official high-pointers rule is: you can claim it if you go as far as you can legally.

An approach that looked good on topo maps was shown by aerial photos to stop at a creek. This left an approach that would be about 6 miles, at least 1 bushwhacking. By Sawbill Creek, one turns on Forest Road 339 (Rice Lake Road), then immediately turn left on Forest Road 1278. There's little signs with the numbers of the roads and one of a bicycle, which made me feel better, thinking that people may actually use the road. This road was much wider than expected, though rough and I drove only until I reached a point where I could safely turn around; it quickly became apparent that this road was being currently used for logging, which explained it's being in relatively good shape. There's supposed to be another branching road to the left (1278A) that I didn't see and, which if I took it, would be a long detour to a dead end; I would wonder for some time if I'd accidentally taken that turn.

When I stopped the car, I saw 20-30 deer flies on the side view mirror. If they were that thick where there weren't any animals, they were going to be BAD. I reapplied insect repellent, had a bite to eat and swallowed a lot of fluid, filled my water bottles, and checked that I had my Garmin, maps and compass. I wrote a note to place on the window of where I was headed and when I left; when at the last minute I added what DAY I started, things became quite serious. I double-checked that I had the keys to the car and headed out.

Approach road

It was hot and sticky, with some high clouds and a huge swarm of flies. I thought as long as I was on the road, I could run fast enough to keep the flies mostly at bay. It seemed to be a low-lying area and wet, which surprised me. There were several hundred butterflies (common, monarch-sized, brown with orange fringe. Added: two weeks later, I saw what looked like the same butterfly and it was a black and yellow swallowtail, making this the worst description of a butterfly imaginable) drinking from some puddles, which swarmed me, wanting the minerals from my sweat. I couldn't selectively swat flies and not butterflies and stopped caring once a butterfly tried to drink from my right eye. I was swatting my head like Curly of the Three Stooges.

The road was quite long..miles... and one of my maps showed a branch that could take me a long way to the south of where I wanted to be. Aerial photos suggested that that was the only road, that the branch I wanted didn't exist in 2009. There were overturned buckets with numbers that loggers were using for markers, plus occasional white pines left on the tops of slopes to use as landmarks. I continued until I came upon the logging crew, just over a rise. I wondered how they could stand the heat and flies - and then it hit me that they were inside air-conditioned vehicles, that my thoughts of logging were somewhat out of date. If they saw me, I'd have to quit. If they were on my route, I'd have to bushwhack longer to get around them (or him; I only saw one). There was a peak to my right, but I wasn't sure that it wasn't Manymoon Peak, which would mean I went a long way south of where I wanted to be. I took a photo (see earlier post) and checked the compass, turned on the Garmin and marked the location. The peak was the 2045 to the south of what I wanted and the loggers were where I wanted to go.

I had three choices. 1) Quit. 2) Head due North and then due East. This had its appeal, as if I went too far east or north, I'd hit water and know where I went wrong; if I got turned around and headed south, I'd hit the road again and if I headed east, I'd be going closer to my goal. The contour lines suggested this was a terible way to go; I'd probably hit swamp and then have to climb cliffs. Still, it looked good on paper. 3) Take what looked like the rougher route and head due east, checking often to make sure I didn't hit private property, then head north up the shallow approach to the peak.

The Garmin had about 9 hours of battery life left. I'd forgotten the difference between magnetic north and true north, so I checked the compass versus the Garmin. I used my current co-ordinates and the ones of my destination and had the Garmin map feature decide where I was going.

I enter the wild

The trucks clearing for the road had made the first yards almost impassible on foot with all the debris. Everything shifted and in mere yards I wasn't sure which way I was facing. There was an irritation on my back and I reached back and pulled a handful of flies from the waistband of my shorts; I rolled down the waistband to ease the irritation, knowing there'd be another line of flies there eventually. Every step I took, it seemed there was a branch trying to gore me and I knew that any injury could be potentially deadly. I moved one yard at a time, knowing 2000 yards would get me there.

I heard a rumble. At first, I thought it might be from the logging, then I heard another and knew it was thunder. The weather report said there'd be spotty storms, but the sky above was fairly light. Until it wasn't. It began to rain. The rain knocked down the flies and the temperature, so I felt better about continuing, but it soon became too dark to see. All I could do was huddle and wait for the storm to pass. Not knowing how long it would be, I turned off the garmin to save battery life. A half-hour (maybe) later, it was clearing and I was about to start again when I heard something and thought I saw something. I said out loud, "Probably a deer." That's whan I saw a bear's head whip around toward me. I said a few words ("Go away, bear," I think) and the bear was satisfied as to what I was and that I wasn't a threat and it crashed through the brush away from me. I was rather glad I didn't have any food on me it could smell. A few minutes later, after the garmin decided to lock onto satellites, I started again.

I was expecting that, once I got on the peak itself, footing would be easier. There should be old growth white pine, which once inside the stand, should have no brush underneath and only broken branches and needles to bother me. It was not to be. It was tough going the entire way. When I got near the top hours (yes, hours) later, it was quite steep and I suddenly remembered something: I'm afraid of heights! What the hell was I thinking?! Then I remember Steven Wright's "I'm not afraid of heights. I'm afraid of widths." So I turned my head to the side and said, "That's better." I laughed at my own poor joke and wondered how sure I wanted to be that I was at the top, as it was dangerous to move up there.

Legal disclaimer: The 40 acre plat that contains the peak of Lundeen Mountain is privately owned and reaching the summit would be trespassing. I do not believe that I trespassed, but stayed 200 yards from the peak. I also expect that in a few years, when the statute of limitations expires, my memory may fade and I will claim that I believe I actually did reach the true summit.

Now it was time to use a feature of the Garmin I hadn't used previously. One can retrace one's steps exactly (or as exactly as the technology allows). This made the return trip much, much faster. I got back to the road in about an hour, didn't see or hear the lumberjacks, ran the 5 miles on the road back to the car, got in the car, and drove over the newly muddy road back to civilization. I had far fewer scratches and bruises than expected and most of my bites were under my clothes. I hadn't even picked up a woodtick.

I went to the finish line of the Voyageur 50 Mile and watched a few people come in. I got asked whether I'd done the climb and I started joking about how there's barbed wire and someone's probably buried up there - after all, no one's ever going to check - and then I noticed that, whenever I thought about the thunder, the bear and the cliff, my hands started to shake.

Twit (This Week in Training)

2011-08-14T12:38:00.000-05:00

Monday: 4 in 33. Extreme pain in left hip.
Tuesday: 3.5 in 41 with 4xBrickyard Hill, first in record 3:44.
Wednesday: 4 in 32 with sprints (top speed 3:47/mile)
Thursday: 4.5 in 43 with 2 in 13:29, 9x100 in 15.5-17.5 (full recovery)
Friday: 0. Mowed the lawn.
Saturday: 4 in 36 with 8xMounds Hill (5 fast, sub 8 min./mile)
Sunday: 5 in 38 (3 in 22.5)

This training is messed up in several ways, but is starting to look familiar. Sunday was supposed to be twice as long, but I felt good and went out too fast; given a choice between faster and farther, I'll always go faster. Though the mileage has dropped to a third of what I did in April, the pace is 2 min./mile faster. I'm already making the mental shift from "long run=35 miles" to "long run=10 miles (if I'm lucky)."

Climbing Stony Tower Hill

2011-08-12T11:04:00.002-05:00

I wasn't going to do these posts, but I haven't been on a trail in two weeks and so I've been thinking about my last foray into the woods.

Stony Tower Hill

The name of this hill is picturesque, but I knew that there'd be no tower, much less a stone tower. I was trying not to expect too much, but this entire trip was a matter of "Was that it?"

The way to get there: From Highway 61 along Minnesota's north shore, just past Tettegouche State Park, one turns onto County Highway 1, where one crosses the Sawtooth range, where there are a series of jagged hills that makes one think "I have to climb something higher than that!" Some twenty miles later, just past the town of Isabella, a half mile past the Forest Work Station, is an intersection; north is paved, south is Forest Road 103, which is the way to Stony Tower. I drove past the intersection. "Was that it?" The road has a sign that says it's unsuitable for passenger vehicles; using a truck, one can get within 200 yards of the peak. The road didn't seem too difficult, until I saw a 30 foot pine lying across the road and truck tracks around it. I, of course, ran the road.

Following the road, there's a private road almost immediately on the left, then a low swampy area filled with stones (which suggests how the nearby Stony River got its name). I was swatting deerflies - it was late July - but was able to wonder how such a low-seeming area could be near a high point, if no high point was visible. There's another trail to the left to avoid, a forest road (103H) to the right, a slight rise, a forest road (391) to the left, and then, a total of 2.6 miles (by Garmin) from Highway 1, there's the summit path to the right. I stepped onto it and decided ten feet in that it couldn't be right, so headed further down the road (which goes uphill... and I was thinking "going uphill is the point here") and then back. There is a post in the ground marking the path [I may insert a boring photo here someday]. "Was that it?"

The trail, a bit better than a deer trail, is very overgrown and small fallen trees covered the path. I was certain I was the first person to be there in a long time. Bent double, I could manoeuvre through most of the trail, occasionally going around fallen trees and sometimes losing the trail for a few yards. The trail splits in the woods and I went left, following the trail until it seemed to be a dead end and I'd been going downhill for some time; it should connect back to two forest roads (380 and 103G?), but I lost the trail, bushwhacked a bit, then headed back (and uphill). When I seemed to be at the highest point on the trail ("Was that it?"), I went step by step into the brush, trying to locate the true high point, pushing the brush down hard enough to be able to see exactly where I'd been.

This trip really should be done in April or October, when the leaves of bushes don't obscure the view.

I went back along the trail to where it had forked, then took the opposite fork until it, too, disappeared. It should connect back to forest road 103H. While the path did go uphill for a bit, trying to find the high point would just lead back to where I'd been, so I was certain I'd reached the summit.

The total climb after entering the woods is less than 50 feet, which is disappointing. There is no view (at least in summer). Isabella is at 1944 feet, one climbs another 30 to the forest road, another 70 gradually along that road and 50 more in the woods, for the peak of 2080.

On a topographic map, within 300 feet of vertical of the summit are several other peaks: Peabody Hill (2019 feet), Mount Weber (1946), Cloquet Lookout Tower (2067) and Wanless Tower (2062). All are undoubtedly more interesting than Stony Tower Hill.

This was an easy climb. The harrowing account of my climbing Lundeen Mountain that same day is forthcoming.

Added: There are a few reports and topo maps of this peak on the internet which are badly out of date.

Miracle Run

2011-08-10T12:31:00.000-05:00

I needed to run. I needed to run like a man at the bottom of a pool needs to breathe. Medical, financial, relationship and legal problems all hit HARD all at once. I had to get out and run off the frustration.

Problem was: the day before I hurt myself. Taking a long lunging stride, I felt a pain in my hip not unlike when I dislocated it a couple of years ago; I thought I might've broken the femur head, but I could stand and walk. In fact, I jogged home, but discovered I couldn't lift my left leg up to climb steps when I got home.

Still, I needed to try. I was scheduled to do hill repeats at the Brickyard, but that didn't seem likely. I went anyway, planning to take a gingerly stroll down the hill and see whta happened. Something went SNAP! and the hip was better - hurt, but much better. I ran down to the bottom of the hill and decided to try one hard time up.

The first 100 yards are at about a 35 degree angle. I took short fast steps, dodging ruts and rocks. The first turn is about 45 degrees and treacherous footing, but I slue around, intentionally trying to keep momentum. Then comes a long gradual uphill and I pushed. Then a turn and another slightly steeper section, deeply rutted and I pushed some more. One more turn, a leap over a puddle and a long drive up the last uphill. I was gasping for air, but drove with all my might. The last 30 yards I could see the top, though it gets a bit steeper and I gave it all I had. I hit the top in 3:44.

My previous fastest up that hill was 4:40. It works out to be equivalent to a mile in 5:10.

Then I started wheezing and I coughed until I vomited. My eyes watered, my nose ran, my shoulders heaved up and down as I coughed up tons of mucus.

And I was happy.

And I did three more hills for a cool-down. Then it was back to messy "real" life again.

Bad Day

2011-08-08T10:10:00.002-05:00

5 years ago today, my mother died.
30 years ago today, my fiancee died.
This morning, my garage was broken into.

I have a message that my lab. test results are in. Would you blame me if I hold off a day before I check the results?

Update: Results were "inconclusive." And I pulled a muscle during my run... stupid August 8th.

Wisdom in my dotage

2011-08-07T13:18:00.001-05:00

I have a year to prepare for my planned assault on an age-class record and I'm going to need all of it. A bunch of things just seemed to click this week.

Training week that was

Monday: 0 miles. Sore, stiff and covered in deer fly bites from Saturday's run. (Dewpoint 75)
Tuesday: 0 miles. Spent the day cleaning up storm debris. (Dewpoint 74)
Wednesday: 5.5 in 58 with 7 times up the Brickyard Hill (ave.4:44 for 0.40 miles and 240 ft. of climb). Slight achilles soreness. Much less humid, finally.
Thursday: 3 in 27 with running drills. Very sore immediately afterward. Spent 90 minutes cutting my lawn.
Friday: 0 miles. Sore throat, very sore hip adductors. (Dewpoint 68)
Saturday: 5 in 45 with 8x90 sec. up Indian Mounds Park hill, with 3 minute recoveries. Had planned to race on my birthday, but too stiff and sore. Somewhat humid (83 degrees, 67 dewpoint), after a meal. Tough at first, but got better.
Sunday: 7.5 in 61. First two somewhat slow, then 5 @ 8:06, then half mile slower again. Beautiful day for a change.

Analysis

I ran the downhills much too fast on Wednesday, which kept me from running as fast as I wanted to on the uphills. The fast sections were about right for training for only a 6 minute mile, but the 5.5 in 58 with 1900 feet of climb works out to 5:38, which sounds about right.

Thursday's drills kicked my ass - literally. This was only the second time I did this workout and the first time I did it seriously. I have a long, long way to go; this is not something I enjoy, but it'll help a lot over the next weeks and months.

Saturday I intentionally stopped before I normally would. I don't need to kill myself in this workout and it was easier to back off because I was so stiff at the start. The workout comes out to a 5:38 mile, just like Wednesday's. This had me rethinking how fast my easy runs should be.

Sunday it was hard to keep myself from going faster. It started getting tough at 5.5 miles, probably because it was the day after a hard run, but the weather was fantastic and I felt terrific.

Stop re-inventing the wheel

I posted my training plan only a week ago, but I've revised it considerably already. I was trying to be too clever with it and I've decided I should go mainstream before I try tweaking everything. So here's what it looked like when I thought I was in 6:00 Mile shape:

Monday: 30-40 minutes with running drills.
Tuesday: 40-50 minutes with 3-5x 1200 in 4:45-4:52; 3-4.5 Min Rec.
Wednesday: 30-40 w/ a few short sprints, plus core exercises
Thursday: 40-50 w/ 2 in 13:50 (or 3 in 20:45) plus 10-16x100 in 20-22; 100m jog Rec.
Friday: 0-30 min. "catch-up" day with flexibility exercises
Saturday: 40-50 min w/ 6-10x400m in 90; 3-4.5 min.R
Sunday: 65-75 min. steady (8@8:40)

The biggest improvements come early and I'm already adjusting the numbers for a 5:30 mile. That still leaves almost a minute to cut in the next year!

For my birthday, tell me a joke

2011-08-05T10:15:00.001-05:00

Tomorrow's my birthday. The plans I had are quickly falling apart due to weather (which happens 4 out of 5 years on my birthday). So what do I want for my birthday? How about a laugh?

Here's (a bad) one to prime the pump:

There's a bar at the top of a skyscraper. One guy there turns to another and says, "You know, I'm the architect that designed this building. The thing I'm most proud of is all the built-in safety features. The best thing is that, if you jump out a window, the updrafts will carry you right back. C'mon, I'll show you." They go out onto a balcony and the guy jumps. He falls and falls and falls... and then slowly starts rising again and steps back onto the balcony. "It's great," he says, "You have to try it." The other guy's a little tentative, but he leaps. He falls and falls and falls and... splat! he hits the sidewalk. The first guy goes back inside and the bartender says, "You're a mean drunk, Superman."

Random photos

2011-08-03T12:53:00.000-05:00

Waterfall at the Brickyard Hill

Colin sucking wind at Rice Street Mile

On the way to Lundeen Mountain

Lana

Aha!

2011-08-02T11:20:00.000-05:00

I just had an epiphany.

[Sorry if this is long-winded and dull.]

I was thinking about how every coach means something slightly different when they say "threshold run" or "tempo run," when I started thinking about how Jack Daniels' thoughts on VO2max interval training is so radically different from my own experience. He advocates running 3-5 minutes at one's maximal heart rate, but I can only attain that maximum for a second or two. Then I started thinking about some other things that have never added up... and now I get it!

For one thing, Daniels talks about how there's a specific pace that's related to VO2max. In my experience, as I run at any constant pace, the effort level increases until I hit a collapse point and, if I run at a steady heart rate, my pace drops precipitously. This is related to what Brad Hudson calls the "VO2max slow component" (page 52 in his book). What has always been unfathomable to me is that there are people who run a marathon at constant pace and constant heart rate at the same time; it just doesn't work that way for me. While the effort level increases for them, it is not reflected in their heart rate, though for me the two have been synonymous... I assume that what holds true for me holds true for others, which is the same error that all the others have made, just from the opposite view.

What Daniels says holds true IF one's heart rate is the limiting factor in one's VO2max. For me, it's not. I'm running very anaerobically for several minutes before my heart rate drifts up to maximum. I can (and have) run a half-marathon at 95% maximum heart rate, which is supposed to be impossible. This is because my body isn't limited by heart rate, so it shoots up quickly because it can and I've trained it to do that.

The big question then is: if my heart rate isn't limiting my VO2max, what is? Certainly something is holding me back. Let's take a look at all the components that make up VO2max, one by one. First is heart rate, which we've eliminated. Second is stroke volume, which is inversely correlated to resting heart rate; mine is currently 38 bpm (though just standing before a run, it's often 70-85, again because my heart rate's the first thing to shift), so that's not it. Next is vital lung capacity; though my lungs are scarred from recent recurrent infections, mine's about 5.5 liters, which is okay. Next is peak respiratory flow; I've had allergic asthma problems, but I'm currently slightly above average there too. Next is capillarization of muscles, which after 30 plus years of aerobic training, is certainly not the problem, nor is blood vessel diameter - I have some pretty ropy veins. I'll assume that there isn't a 2,3-bisphoglycerate problem, or some other rare genetic flaw (like a thallesemia). I eliminated blood pressure and viscosity issues, though chronic dehydration causes me to have some odd readings.

This leaves the blood itself. And here's where things get odd. I recently had a blood test that showed me to be anemic. My first thought was that it was like when Dr. Gabe Mirkin found the entire US women's Olympic track team was testing anemic; that it was just a flaw of the test (he decided that, as athletes have larger blood volumes, it was a dilutional phenomenon). Further investigation came up with:

1) Heavy training was causing steady small blood losses in urine.
2) Impact shock from long hard running was causing "march anemia," first noted in soldiers in the 1880's. The repeated landing shock was causing blood cells to rupture in the feet.
3) My dietary sources of iron are all chelated. For example, spinach is heavy in iron, but it's bound by oxalic acid. Phytic acid (found in nuts, legumes and grains) is another chelator. Then, given the amount of tea and coffee I drink, tannins decrease iron absorptivity. On paper, my diet is rich in iron, but I'm not getting any of it!

Maybe I can change things with diet and better recovery. Even if I can't, at least I know that it's pointless for me to try to follow any training plans designed for someone whose body reacts differently from mine.

2011-07-31T12:29:00.001-05:00

I've never had an untitled post. It was time.

Yesterday, I climbed to the summits of Stony Tower Hill and Lundeen Mountain, then went to the finish of the Voyageur 50 Mile. One person I talked to, after asking if I'd done what I said I was going to attempt and hearing that I had, said, "Don't tell me about it. I can just read about it on your blog."

It's a long story and I'm not going to tell it, or publish the photos (bad photos, as there were thousands of deer flies to swat while trying to take them). The short version, however, is: it was incredibly hard, dangerous and stupid... and that was before the thunderstorm or the bear. It took 4 hours to cover one mile.

I might be the first person to climb Lundeen. I'm certainly the only one in the past 50 years.

I wouldn't do it again!

TV shows I'm surprised I like

2011-07-29T10:40:00.002-05:00

Well, I stayed on topic for the better part of a week. Time for something not a propos.

Some people think I'm a curmudgeon, because I write a lot about what I think is wrong with things, rather than what's right. Some think I'm an elitist snob, as I tend to be into rather arcane things (I'm currently reading the novels of Robert Musil and Alejo Carpentier, for example). Some think I'm so jaded I can only enjoy things ironically, which would explain my fondness for films that contain ninjas, zombies and cavemen. [c'mon, somebody make "Ninja Zombie Caveman" already!] I hope none of them are right.

Here's three television shows I've been enjoying lately, that I would not have thought I'd like:

Extreme Makeover: Weight Loss Edition

I don't like the home renovation version of the show, nor do I like other weight loss shows like "The Biggest Loser," and every episode of this show is exactly the same. Yet it's very watchable, somehow. If someone can explain this to me, I'd be interested.

Curious George

I don't have kids and I don't smoke pot, so why am I watching this? Sometimes happy endings are tacked on and things are wrapped up a bit too neatly, but overall, I get sucked into the stories.

Bob's Burgers

This one I can explain. Not every episode works, but the characters of Gene and Louise make me laugh every single time and I'm always surprised at what lines are written for them. My rule for comedy is: three jokes a minute makes you the funniest person on earth; two makes you the dullest - it works for stand-up, sketch, slapstick, just about all comedy styles. One episode of Bob's Burgers had the funniest minute in television this year:

Bob's wife, Linda, turns on the light to see her husband in the living room... with a cow (joke 1). Bob says, "You won't even notice it's here." (#2). The cow pees on the floor. (#3). Bob says, "It was like that when we got here." (#4) The cow's still peeing. A lot. Even for a cow. (#5). Their son, Gene, awakened by the noise, enters the room and says, "This is the greatest dream ever!" (#6) Then he adds, "Everyone! Take off your clothes and pee on the floor!" (#7).

Added: The whole scene can be seen here.

Okay, now I can go back to writing about running again.

I hate when reality sneaks in

2011-07-28T10:56:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I went out to the Brickyard to do hill repeats, even though the dewpoint was 75, I hadn't eaten all day and it was afternoon and my heels hurt a bit. As expected, it didn't go well. My Sunday short hill workout has been going extremely well. The Monday run was tough, but done as planned by heart rate, slowed by the previous day's run. The Tuesday run was meant to be easy, with a few sprints, which at 4:15-4:18 mile pace is well below last year's typical 3:35-3:38, but which reduced me to a walk. And then I thought I'd do a long hill workout (!)... there's a plan here, though, not just masochism, and when I can handle the workload, I'll be in shape. I just have to get used to some workouts that look like crap when I write down what I actually accomplished.

Sometimes you just need to wrap your head around things. I talked myself into doing the workout just to try my hand at photographing the environs, in preparation for photos I plan to take this weekend of hills I'm climbing.

That's another thing that's making me laugh at my own naïveté [those diacritics better be right; they're hard to type]. I was wondering why there aren't any decent pictures of some of the peaks I plan to climb. Part of me is still thinking that this is like climbing mountains out west, where you can see the peak on the horizon, drive to the base, climb a trail to the summit and then look out over everything. That's not Minnesota! There's no pictures because there's dense forest the entire way; you can't see the peak from the nearest road, you can't see it from the base, you can't see more than 3 feet in any direction at any time, there's no trail, there's no happy little cairn built at the top by others who've been there to let you know you've arrived (but weren't first) and there's no view from the peak except of trees that look exactly like the trees you see the entire way.

I'm bringing a camera, but I'm no longer thinking I'll get any decent pictures.

Haglund's Deformity Retrocalcaneal Bursitis

2011-07-27T10:35:00.000-05:00

The awkward title is so people can find this in searches.

Since I keep talking about my sore heels, I thought a picture would be worth a thousand words.

The first personal photo I've published here. Careful what you wish for.

More of the Massive Rethink

2011-07-26T11:38:00.001-05:00

I really want to run Voyageur on Saturday [good timing, Steve. That's the day it's being held!], because the weather's going to be almost ideal - given July's temps this year - but there's just no way I could do it. Though neither have signed up yet, a Chris Gardner/Chris Lundstrom duel could set up a new course record.

Physiology

In some ways, your body decides what races you should do for you. One example is differing muscle fiber types. You've probably heard of "fast-twitch" and "slow-twitch," but there are three types, each of which are fueled differently. Slow twitch fibers can use sugars and fatty acids aerobically for fuel and they're what you use for endurance sports. Different muscles have different percentages of slow twitch fibers, so what's usually measured is the gastrocnemius, which you use a lot in running and which is very variable (the soleus, underneath the gastrocnemius is almost entirely slow twitch; the triceps brachiae in contrast are almost entirely fast twitch - useful for swatting mosquitos!) The best ultrarunners tend to have 95-98% slow twitch fibers in their calves. I have 46%, which means I could probably hang with them if they only used 50% of their legs and hopped the entire distance.

There are two types of fast twitch fibers and I always forget the terminology, but the important point is how they're fueled differently. One type can burn glucose for fuel, which can be supplied through the blood stream, though they can only get 1/18th of the energy possible by burning it in the presence of oxygen as in the slow twitch fibers. The glucose gets turned into pyruvate, which is in turn converted to lactate and alanine and gets exported to the liver, which can then deal with it. It's inefficient, but it's what you need if you try to run hard for any length of time.

The other fast twitch fiber has no equipment for using sugars or fatty acids. It uses a storage molecule called phosphocreatine, which gets completely exhausted in 5-30 seconds. If you're running 50 meters all-out, this is your fuel. If you're running much more than that, it's pretty useless.

Having half fast-twitch and half slow-twitch fibers means I'm best suited to run 1-5 miles, which turns out to be the distances with which I've had the most success.

Ultrarunners (I still don't consider myself one) are forever saying I just have to run slower and burn fat, rather than sugar. In one sense, that was true. In another, that meant I'd be ignoring half of my trainable muscle fibers. By using just slow-twitch fibers, I end up walking. And I've walked too many ultras already.

Another question that gets raised is: if you do lots of ultrarunning, don't you develop more slow-twitch muscle fibers? The answer turns out to be - no (however, the slow-twitch fibers you have get larger, have more mitochondria, become more efficient and develop better cappilarization), but you do get better at it anyway.

I've always wondered whether it's better to go with one's strengths or to shore up one's weaknesses. For me, endurance and stamina are always weaknesses; ultrarunning didn't really eliminate the problem. Now that I've decided to return to training for short races (a strength), I see I have a lot of little weaknesses I can work on. The answer to my question turned out to be: go with your strengths and shore up the weaknesses associated with that strength. As usual, the answer wasn't one or the other, but both.

Added: It's commonly said that the fast-twitch fibers that utilize glucose can be trained to act like slow-twitch fibers. This is misleading. They never use fatty acids for fuel, nor do they completely oxidize glucose; training for long distances causes them to adapt by using glucose and exporting waste products more efficiently.

Complications

2011-07-25T11:38:00.000-05:00

I was looking forward to my excursion up north this coming weekend, but as usual, things are never as easy as they seem. First, the brakes on my car are worrisome; I had them repaired, then brought it back to be adjusted, but they're still acting up. Second, two of the "easy" summits I had on my list don't actually qualify as peaks, upon further research. Third, the easiest one is on a road marked "unsuitable for passenger cars," which will add considerable time to my trip, as I'll have to run what I planned to drive. Fourth, self-issued day hike permits in the BWCA are not available for the entry point I had in mind.

Well, I guess that's what makes it an adventure!

................
Be sure to congratulate Sea Legs Girl and Fast Bastard on their new baby and to wish RBR a happy birthday today.

Getting Back On Track

2011-07-22T11:02:00.000-05:00

I just deleted my last two posts, as I'd jumped the tracks. I've done it before, I'll do it again, and I know some people actually prefer when I go off on some personal tangent because I think I'm being amusing, but it's an example of what I call "west coast hubris."

West Coast Hubris/ East Coast Hubris

West coast hubris is: it happened to me, therefore it's relevant. A perfect recent example from the news is that local TV news here covered the two day closing of a section of the 405 highway in Los Angeles, which turned out to be a minor inconvenience with the catchy name "Carmageddon." There is absolutely no reason why I should have heard about it. The reasoning was: it's happening in L.A., therefore it's important.

This is the reason I've never had a Twitter account. I could have a very popular one; I think of something funny or clever to say (at least relative to what I've seen on Twitter) at least a half dozen times per day. But is it really relevant? Should people waste their time on it? I think not.

East coast hubris is the opposite: if it doesn't happen to me, it's not important. The recent news example is the heat wave crossing the United States. It's not really news, even though dozens of people die from excessive heat in Missouri, until someone in news in New York is inconvenienced. I still get news from television, making me a dying breed (if you exclude those who get all their news from something like the Colbert Report), but I had to watch the BBC to hear about the Sri Lankan election, as the general impression is: it's not relevant to us. When the next U.S. military action is there or the next terrorist threat comes from there, then in retrospect it'll be important, but people will be asking: why didn't we hear about this earlier?

Oh yes, this is a running blog...

Beside trying to get the blog back on track, I've been trying to find the direction for my training. There have been two major obstacles; first, my heels hurt whenever I start to ramp up training and second, I can only manage a few weeks of training before respiratory problems cause a setback.

I started running trails because I can run slowly on soft surfaces for hours without heel pain, as long as the terrain isn't overly technical and there are few sharp turns. I'm terrible at ultradistances, but it seemed to be my only option. A couple of years ago, I thought about doing short track races, as I could get ready for them quickly (and it's literally more my speed), but the track workouts made my heels hurt - I couldn't handle repeated turns at high speed. Last year, I thought about returning to road marathons, but my heels can't handle much more than 90 minutes of roads.

I've decided that I can probably race well at 1500-5000 meters again, if I simulate track speedwork by running hills on trails. So far, it seems to be a good plan, but it'll take a long time to see if it works. I'm so far from where I need to be to race well, even in my age class, that it's frustrating at times.

Here's what a week looks like:

Monday 60-90 minutes, speeding up through marathon pace to about 1/2 marathon pace
Tuesday 50-60 minutes, with downhill sprints or 16x100m-100m
Wednesday 50-60 minutes, with 4-7x 4-5minutes (roughly 800m) uphill @ 5K pace effort
Thursday 20-30 minutes, with running drills and plyometrics
Friday 20-30 minutes, with strength circuit training and core work
Saturday 20-30 minutes, with flexibility training
Sunday: 50-60 minutes with a time trial, plus 2x1 min. all-out, or 8-12x400m uphill @ 1 mile effort.

That's hard workouts on Wednesday and Sunday, moderate-to-easy on Monday and Tuesday, easy Thursday through Saturday.

There's not any ultrarunning there, for those expecting my return to the long stuff.

Where I'll Be During Voyageur

2011-07-20T10:39:00.000-05:00

Some have noted that I'm signed up for the Voyageur 50 Mile (July 30) and assume I'm running it. I'm not.

I'm thinking of going up there, saying hi to a few people, maybe snap a couple of pictures before the race starts and then head off north. It's a good day to start climbing Minnesota's 2000 foot peaks. Depending upon time, I may get in Stony Tower Hill (maybe a 10 minute scamper), Wanless Tower (easy), Lundeen Mountain (meh), Peak 2114 (probably an hour to find it and another to climb), Peak 2163 (a long rough bushwack that will probably cause me to reconsider) and Eagle Mountain. No way I'm doing all 6 in one day!

Whatever I get accomplished, I plan to be back in Carlton for the lasagna dinner for the racers. After all, I've paid for it - can't let it go to waste.

I've been looking at the peaks and considering how to do them. Some are remarkably tough. One is adjacent to State Lake, which once got listed as "the most inaccessible lake in Minnesota;" there was a plan to check the DNA of the trout expected to be there, but they could find no one who would consider trying to make the trip. Even worse is one that's 15 miles along the Kekekabic Trail (which is slightly less a nightmare than it was after all the trees blew down, but is still barely a trail) before a 3 mile bushwack; I'd try to do it in a day, though I can find no one who's done it without camping three days.

Oh joy.

Time Warp

2011-07-19T11:15:00.001-05:00

Somehow, I'm in 1930's Louisiana. The dewpoint's 78 and it'll be 100 degrees today (sorry for those who need metric - it wasn't popular on the bayou during the depression). The power went out, so there's no air conditioning or fans; I'm spending most of my time at home getting to know my basement, where it's relatively cool. Of course, it's still wet - the heavy rains that caused seepage into my basement is not helped by the air being saturated with humidity.

And I ate some bad shrimp etouffe.

Little Victories

2011-07-18T10:43:00.000-05:00

I awoke on my bathroom floor with a penny stuck to my ass - and I hadn't even been drinking.

Sunday was an epic hard run on a horrible day. Then I spent the day trying to avoid cooking by eating whatever was left in the fridge. That led to food poisoning: proteins, sugars and liquid should not be stored together for more than a week even at 40 degrees. And that was why I was sleeping by the toilet.

The penny? Well, I'm not sure really, but I went to the Ramsey County Fair on Sunday and my pockets did end up full of change and odd debris. If you live in the St. Paul/Minneapolis area, you really should take in that particular fair some day, just for the feeling of superiority that it brings. One year, when they announced the attendance, my sister asked how they came up with the number - I said, "Counted teeth, divided by four." The agricultural exhibits are sad; the only farms in the county are museums. The parade down White Bear Avenue goes past boarded up strip malls and the grand marshal is whoever's still in business; my favorite was the year it was a guy out on parole. The highlight is usually the fire department playing a game where they try to move beer kegs along a wire with their hoses. My favorite thing is the rides - forty year old equipment held together with baling wire and being run by guys named Icepick and Boxcar; no ride anywhere else is nearly as scary, as once every other year there seems to be an accident.

But this morning I went for a run anyway. The dewpoint had dropped to 74 by 7 AM, and that's as good as we're going to get for a while. The plan was to run 75 minutes with a good portion at marathon pace; instead, my heart rate was sky high at 8 1/2 minutes per mile and I called it a day still shy of one hour on my feet.

That's a victory, in my book. The coming week's going to be rough weather; I'm hoping for several little victories.

Mad Dog's Blaze of Glory

2011-07-17T12:29:00.001-05:00

First, like everyone else around here, let me preface this by saying the weather here has been bad. Two and a half inches of rain in one hour, then another 5 in 4 hours; the (pedestrian) bridges around me have the footings washed away, the photos on the news of flooding are two miles from my home - and I live on a lake - and I have water in my basement. When I went for today's run at 7 AM, it was 80 degrees, with a dewpoint of 77. There was fog!

Back in high school, my coach called me "Mad Dog" because I liked to run in the midafternoon in the summer; "Only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the noonday sun" goes the old saying. I didn't wait for it to get to 98 degrees today, because I had a tough workout to do. They say people with respiratory problems shouldn't be outside this whole week, but then most people with respiratory problems aren't competitive runners.

I saw something I may never see again. Once the sun had risen over the hill, the dew on the grass collected, but there was nowhere to go (7-8 inches of rain, remember, the ground was saturated), so water was running downhill even though it wasn't raining. Weird. Ominous, even.

The plan had been to run a hard mile (after a warm-up), then a couple of all-out 400's up the Indian Mounds Park hill. The weather had me scale way back and I decided to just do repeats of the hill until I had had "enough." I didn't push the uphills, but I did run the downhills harder than I really needed to and, on the 7th hill, my heart rate hit 184, my maximum. I hadn't managed that since almost exactly a year ago. That was "enough."

I needed that. When I'm in shape, I'll be able to add another three hills, done with heart rate near or at maximum, but it's good to see I can do a worthwhile workout even on such a day.

The "cool-down" was difficult. I drank a half-gallon of water in about 5 minutes, then jogged through the neighborhood, trying to stay in the shade as much as possible. Only another 5 or 6 days of this heat... I hope.

Thoughts from the Tar Pit

2011-07-15T10:54:00.001-05:00

I've taken pride in being a running dinosaur. I've seen fads come and go and come back again (e.g., Nike made "minimalist" footwear in the mid-1980's) and I've avoided the bandwagons. I kept going back to the idea that, whatever one was trying to accomplish by non-running exercise, one could find a running version of the same thing, which would be more sport specific. Unfortunately, dinosaurs weren't very smart, so maybe it takes one 60000000 years to learn something.

Running has not been kind to my abdominal muscles, and so, reluctantly, I started doing some core strengthening, not finding any running equivalent. Most of what people work on when doing these is "getting a six-pack," but the rectus abdominus is not really what I need to strengthen. Runners generally need to work on their oblique muscles, so exercises that stress twisting motions of the torso are the ones to focus on; these are the ones that make dancers look "blocky" (and those who do a lot of weight lifting, to regain their waists, then build up the lats to try to get a tapered look - but that just creates another problem, etc.)

Six months into this and there are no noticeable results. One thing I found is that it's not really strength but endurance that I need in the abs. Sitting for several hours each day is the real culprit; if I can teach myself to tilt hips and pelvis forward while seated, I'll probably get some real benefit. Another thing I've discovered is that a muscle I need to work on is the transversus abdominus, which almost no standard exercise addresses. The one that works seems to be the "hairball" - you get on hands and knees, arch the back and pull the stomach toward the spine (make the motion of laughing or coughing and you get in the right position), just like a cat yakking up a hairball. The indignities I'll endure!

I hate doing strength work, but I've been incorporating a few things lately and reading the scientific literature has been interesting - it's as voluminous and contradictory as the literature on running. Some of the concepts are starting to leak into my thoughts on running training, like muscular recruitment during fatigue. I've never been a fan of interval workouts that involved sets and I'm finding what I instinctively feel to be right is being confirmed by the strength training literature, where sets and reps are everything. It may lead to some interesting posts later.

After a very tough hill workout on Wednesday, yesterday I started doing some running drills and plyometrics, which I haven't incorporated in my training for 25 years. Awkward! The important thing to me is that I know why I'm doing them now, rather than doing them because it's something someone somewhere once said was the thing to do.

Among the embarassments was learning I've lost 20 inches on my vertical leap. This white guy can't jump.

So I'm a dinosaur, but not all dinosaurs went extinct. Some learned to fly.

Smacks of Common Sense

2011-07-11T11:03:00.001-05:00

More of the massive rethink:

One of the things that always bothers me, for reasons inexplicable, are people who never truly challenge themselves. There are runners who have long successful careers, who never find out what they're capable of doing, because they've never pushed themselves to the limit. As early as 1980, Track and Field news was considering abandoning their rankings of marathoners, because no two competed against each other; being known as the winner of some marathon was more valuable than running a personal best second place in a prestigious race. Locally, age class competitors choose their races by their competition and everyone wins their trophies with a minimum of effort, beating their nearest rival by a minute per mile or more.

That ain't me.

A few years ago, I wanted to run a 5K to see what kind of shape I was in and so entered one held in my back yard. I ran 18-something, not bad for my condition, the course and the weather, and the second finisher was three minutes back. I was embarassed - I should've been running some other race with better competition. Sometimes such races are understandable; the Minnesota Distance Runner of the Year competition is based upon races at a variety of distances and some races have few options and thus some runners needing a good time at an odd distance run a small race and blow the competition away. Still, it just seems wrong. I do races to, well, race.

I like to push myself to the breaking point... and so I'm broken.

A couple of years ago, the day after the Superior Trail 50K, Julie Berg ran 20 miles of hill repeats and I just shook my head in wonder: why didn't she use that energy in her race? I, on the other hand, was so beat up that I couldn't run a step for days, causing Julie to shake her head, wondering why I didn't just run the race more easily. I can't do it. The week after finishing a 100 mile race for the first time, I ran the Trail Mix 50K in 5:00:41 and Matt Patten, knowing I had another 50K the next week, said "You don't have to do every 50K in 5 hours." Ultrarunners often use races as training runs, but I can't not race them (and I was thinking, "but I ran 3:48 here last time, 5:00 isn't racing!")

I had a reputation early on for leaving my best races on the workout track. I can still recall the day I ran 25 times 400 meters in 72 seconds, with a one minute recovery, but I can't remember the time of the 10K I used that as training for (34 something, I think). My thought had always been that, "if you don't push yourself in training, you won't push yourself in races."

I'm rethinking that.

I'd do a workout, say hill repeats, and after reaching a point where it became difficult, tell myself that I had to push to do more, or I'd quit when it got hard in a race. I'd do another repeat, a bit slower, with my form falling apart, thinking "so-and-so could do 9 repeats, but he couldn't do 10. I'm doing 10." I thought I was training myself to push through discomfort, but I was teaching myself to fall apart and then run inefficiently afterward. Plus, I was exhausting myself, so that it interfered with the next few workouts or the next race.

That's not the way I coach others, so why do I do it to myself? If you do a variety of workouts and improve at doing them, bit by bit, you know you should be able to race a little better as well. I need to convince myself that I don't need "warm-up" races to see where I am in training (especially as I'll do them too hard) and I don't need to push quite so hard when I'm training.

One thing I learned about myself many years ago was that, if I don't have a goal to strive for, I don't run at all. My first "retirement" was about age 30 and the time I usually spent training instead got spent drinking and I gained 30 pounds. There has to be something for me to shoot for, but I can't have anything planned soon, or I'll ramp up my training too fast, get hurt, recover, see the date of the race looming, train harder to get ready in the shortened time, get hurt, etc.

I have a goal. It's in 2013. I'll undoubtedly race before then... I mean, look at the title of this blog... but I'll try to be low-key about races. Try.

Frankenstein 2.0

2011-07-10T13:13:00.001-05:00

It's time to start letting people in on my massive rethink.

When I started running trail ultras, it was a reaction to what was wrong in my racing career. I got tired of training like a maniac for months to drive all day to race a 5K or 10K, only to have everyone jump into their cars immediately after finishing to beat the crush of those still on the course. Ultras, if nothing else, provide the opportunity to know other runners as more than someone to pass or to be passed by.

I kept at it because I was learning. Everything I thought I knew about training and racing falls apart when one runs all day. And I was bad at it, so there was a lot of learning.

Being away from "real" racing has given me some perspective. It's time to re-evaluate some of the things that I've held to be inviolate truths. Here's number one, of what may be many, ideas in this string:

Biomechanics

I recently became upset over the fact that I couldn't run fast any more, and by "fast," I meant that I couldn't get myself to run better than 20 miles per hour for even one second, as I could not so many years ago. Part of me was willing to say, "Well, I just got old" and leave it at that. Nerves fire a little more slowly, and you can't turn the legs over as quickly. Another part of me was saying that I was just out of practice, that years of running slow has made it harder to get back.

Rethink:

I've lost ankle flexibility. I have a common(-ish) heel deformity that's led to severe retrocalcaneal bursitis, which I though I've dealt with as well as possible. The bursa presses upon the achilles tendon, which effectively shortens it, causing a decrease in the range of motion in the joint. I'm losing a little bit of ground with every single step. It's time to work on that.

I've lost hip flexibility. Tight abductors cause me to take shorter steps, with longer "push-off," the longer ground contact slowing me down. This tightness and high mileage has led to overdevelopment of low back musculature, compared to abdominal strength. This has led to the swaybacked bad posture I've been trying to correct. It's time to work on the cause, rather than the symptom.

I've lost hamstring flexibility. 80000-plus miles of running has caused my hamstrings to become strong, but rigid (I've had tight hamstrings since being a teenager, but it's getting worse). My knee lift is poor, which I was attributing to the effcient ultrarunner shuffle, but which isn't improving at faster speeds. Add this to the hip problem and I get the next problem: lack of back kick. In photos of me running fast 20 years ago, my heels nearly reached my butt with each stride; now they barely go above my knee.

The idea "you get better at running by running" needs to be modified.